The Hero Always Rides A White Horse
by RkieFan
Summary: While recovering from a serious car accident, Mike and Jill Danko reflect on different times in their lives together.
1. Chapter 1

**The Hero Always Rides A White Horse**

**Mike fights for his life after he and Jill are involved in a serious car accident. Lt. Ryker, Terry, and Chris find themselves looking for answers as to the cause of the accident and who was at fault.**

**I got the idea for this story after an article that I read on the internet about a man who saved the life of his wife and unborn baby in a car accident. As I read the story, I thought that Mike Danko would've done exactly what the man in the article did. He'd give his life to save Jill's, if it ever came to that. Well, in this story, it almost does. **

**This story is also going to have a lot of back story, going back to the beginning of Mike and Jill's relationship. **

**I don't own The Rookies and never will. Enjoy everybody!**

**PROLOGUE**

It was a crisp, cool November afternoon. Mike and Jill Danko were returning home to Santa Costa after a few relaxing days skiing on Mount Shasta. While it was still fairly warm at home, the first snowfall of the season was fresh on the slopes of Shasta. It was the first time that Mike and Jill had been able to take advantage of it without work getting in the way. Things had been tense that summer for a number of reasons, the main one being the departure of Willie Gillis. His father had taken a turn for the worse, so Willie had decided that he was needed closer to home to help tend to him.

Willie's replacement, a young rookie from Washington State by the name of Chris Owens, was a nice enough young man, but Mike, Terry, and Jill were still trying to get used to him and vice versa. So far, he was proving an easier fit with the two men due to their jobs. Jill, on the other hand, was a different matter. It wasn't that she didn't like Chris. They seemed to get along fine. It was just the fact that he wasn't Willie. Mike had begged Chris to just give Jill some space. As he remembered, it was the same speech he'd given to Terry and Willie more than two years before. She was like this with everyone. Once upon a time, she'd even been distant towards him, although glancing over at her now, he found that so hard to believe. "What're you thinking about?" Jill asked, glancing over at the grin on her husband's face.

"I was just remembering how much you didn't like me when we first met," he gave her a warm smile as he looked over at her.

"I still don't like you," she said as he gave her a strange look. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he reached over and squeezed her hand as he kept his eyes on the road. Traffic was atrocious heading back toward the city. "I had a really nice time this weekend."

"So did I, although I have so many bruises all over my butt and legs, I look like I've been living with Cleve again," she winced as Mike laughed. "Maybe we can head back after the new year."

"I don't know," he shook his head as he looked at the traffic. "The traffic's bad enough with clear roads. I don't like driving up there and back in ice and snow."

Jill hadn't realized how uptight he was until he mentioned the traffic and road conditions. "Maybe we could fly up the next time and just rent a car," she suggested as she looked out of her window.

"Maybe," he agreed as he sighed.

As Mike and Jill were headed down the mountain toward home, a car full of young people was on their way up the mountain. Isabelle Hodges was 19, and a student at UCLA. That is, when she went to class. Most of her time was spent going to parties with her friends, three of whom were in her brand new Cobra GT, a present from her father. Her best friend, Melissa Billings, was in the front passenger seat, while Chad Wentworth and Melissa's brother Kyle, were in the backseat. During the drive up from Los Angeles, the four youngsters had been passing around joints and drinking from a bottle of wine. At their last rest stop, Melissa and Isabelle had gone into the ladies room and snorted a few lines of coke. As far as they were concerned, their whole life was a party. A party that was about to grind to a screeching halt. Literally.

Dressed in a heavy ski coat and a cable-knit sweater, Isabelle felt as if she was about to burn up. Rolling the window down hadn't helped, so she decided that she needed to shed some of her heavy outer clothing. Keeping one hand on the wheel, she tried to tug out of her jacket, but it was impossible to do with one hand. "Missy, take the wheel," Isabelle ordered as her friend reached over and did as she was told.

Driving down the mountain road, Mike glanced into the opposite lane and saw the expensive sports car weaving out of its lane. "What is that fool doing?" Mike asked as the sports car suddenly went airborne.

Jill heard Mike yell out, and then she felt the car violently jerk to the right. That was the last thing that she remembered before her world went to black.

She didn't know how long she was unconscious before she heard voices. She tried to open her eyes, but everything was fuzzy and out of focus. Then she heard the voices again. She tried to focus on where the voices were coming from. "Lady, help is on the way!" she heard someone shout. "Try not to move!"

They'd crashed. That had to be what had happened. It was too quiet in the car. "Mike!" She called out as she tried to look to her left. Her neck and back were killing her. She knew that she shouldn't be moving, but she had to know if Mike was okay. "Mike!" She called out again.

Why wasn't he answering her? She reached over and felt for him, breathing a sigh of relief when she felt his hand. Reaching up, she was further reassured when she felt his pulse. It was faint, but at least he was alive. But, when she brought her hand back, it was covered in blood. She didn't know if it was Mike's blood or her own, but the amount of it horrified her. "Mike, please answer me," she begged. There wasn't even a groan from the driver's side.

Suddenly, the sound of sirens filled the air. She heard footsteps as rescuers arrived at the car. "Ma'am, we're going to get you out of there in a jiffy," one of the young men reassured her. "What's your name?"

"Jill," she answered as she tried not to cry. She wanted Mike to answer her. She wanted him to be all right. She wanted to know what had just happened.

"Okay, Jill. Are you hurting anywhere?" He asked as he inserted a crow bar to pry the passenger side door opened.

"My neck and my back. My husband . . . I think he's hurt pretty badly. Can't you get him out first?" Jill begged as the door popped opened.

"My buddies are working on him. Let's get you out of there and to a hospital. My name's Jeff, by the way. I'm glad to see you were wearing a seatbelt," he smiled as he pulled the door back. "Not too many people do."

"I'm a nurse. I've seen what happens when people don't wear them," she grimaced as Jeff took her vital signs. He then took a cervical collar from a man standing at his side and slipped it around her neck. "Do you know what happened?"

"Just that you got hit. I'm not a traffic investigator. Trey, hand me a backboard," he instructed his colleague.

"Did we get broad-sided?" Jill asked, noting that none of the damage seemed to be on her side of the car.

"I don't know, Jill," Jeff said as he slid the backboard behind Jill and strapped it around her. "Hold real still and we're going to get you out of here. Does anything else hurt besides your neck and your back?"

"I don't know," she said as tears began falling down her face. "Can I please wait for Mike? I don't want to leave him!"

"We need to get you to a hospital and get you looked at. I'm sure that your husband is going to be right behind you," Jeff assured her as they slowly removed Jill from the car and placed her on a nearby gurney.

As Jill was being loaded into the ambulance, she could hear bits and pieces of conversation from the onlookers. Words like 'drunk,' 'stupid kids,' 'one of them is dead,' 'bottles,' and 'dope.' Jill began wondering about just who had hit them. She felt so dizzy and disoriented.

Back in Santa Costa, Lt. Eddie Ryker was at his lake house, enjoying what should've been a relaxing afternoon before the work week started all over again on Monday. He was deeply engrossed in a football game when his phone rang. Turning down the TV, he got up to answer the phone. "Hello?"

"Is this Lt. Eddie Ryker?" An unfamiliar male voice asked.

"It is. Who am I speaking to, please?"

"This is Capt. Gus Cragen, from the California Highway Patrol. I found your number in the wallet of an accident victim as a point of contact. Do you know a Michael Danko?"

"Yes, I'm his superior officer. Are he and his wife all right?" Eddie asked, as his heart began to pound in his chest.

"They were involved in a very serious motor vehicle accident just outside of Santa Costa. They've both been transported to Memorial Hospital. Mrs. Danko seems to be okay, but Officer Danko suffered severe trauma in the accident. It took almost an hour to extricate him from the car using the Jaws of Life. I don't know of any family to notify. Yours was the only number I found in his wallet," the captain intoned.

"I'll make the notifications. Thank you," Ryker said as he hung up and immediately picked up the phone to call Terry, Chris, and finally, Mike's parents. It was only after that that he realized he'd forgotten to ask about the cause of the accident.

**CHAPTER 1**

Terry Webster stood silently outside of the glass doors leading into the ICU cubicle of his best friend. He couldn't believe the number of hoses, wires, and machines that were hooked up to Mike. It was almost impossible to tell where the machines ended and Mike began. Mike's parents had been at the hospital earlier, but had left when it was obvious that there wasn't going to be any sudden change in their son's condition. Terry had promised to call them when Mike regained consciousness. "You mean if, don't you?" Mr. Danko had corrected him.

"No, sir. I mean when," Terry stood firm as he looked at the older man.

"I admire your optimism," Mr. Danko said in a gruff voice as he left the hospital with Mike's mother at his side.

Terry still didn't understand what had happened. From the little that he was able to glean from Lt. Ryker, a car being driven by a 19-year-old college student had hit the center highway barrier and had gone airborne, hitting Mike and Jill's car squarely on the driver's side. They were saying that it was a miracle that Mike survived the accident, at all. It had taken 50 minutes for the fire department and paramedics to free him from the wreckage using the Jaws of Life. Like Jill, Mike had also been wearing his seat belt, which was what everybody was contributing to his miraculous survival.

Terry hadn't been able to learn much about the other driver, other than the fact that she was 19, from a wealthy Los Angeles family, and that there had been three other youngsters in the car, one of whom had been dead on arrival at the hospital and another who wasn't expected to survive the night.

Two floors below, Chris had been keeping vigil outside of Jill's room. Her injuries were minor in comparison to Mike's, but every time she woke up and asked about Mike, she became so hysterical at the non-answers she was receiving that they kept having to sedate her. Ryker was hoping that he could talk to her, to try to figure out what had happened. Terry wanted to talk to her, too, but to try to offer her some comfort. Chris didn't know her well enough to help her through this, but Terry knew that he could, if she'd just let him.

"Is there any change?" He asked as a nurse came out of the room.

"No, I'm afraid not. It would probably help if Jill could come down and sit by him. You know, talk to him," she suggested as Terry nodded. "But, no news is good news. And, at least he isn't facing any more surgery. At least for the time being."

Terry sighed. Mike had already gone up to surgery twice in the less than 48 hours since he and Jill had been admitted to the hospital. The first was to stop internal bleeding and the most recent was to stop bleeding inside of his brain.

"Terry?" He turned as he heard his name called. He forced a smile at his partner. "She's starting to wake up. Maybe you could try talking to her this time. The lieutenant's getting pretty insistent about questioning her."

"Okay," Terry nodded as he walked over to the elevator and pressed the 'down' button.

As he got off of the elevator and walked down the hall toward Jill's room, he saw her doctor coming out. "Officer Webster, as I just told your partner, Mrs. Danko's emotional state is very fragile right now. Plus, she's still in a great deal of pain."

"What're you going to do? Keep her snowed under until Mike dies? If that's going to happen, she has a right to be at his side," Terry hissed.

"I'm not going to argue with you and your friends any further. Do whatever makes you happy," the doctor stormed off in a huff as Terry shook his head and continued toward Jill's room.

Jill was just starting to open her eyes when Terry walked into the room. "You're not exactly the person I was hoping to see," she said in a hoarse voice, wincing as she struggled to sit up. "Can you crank the bed?"

"Yeah, hold on," he said as he walked to the foot of the bed and turned the hand crank, raising the head of the bed. "Is that okay or do you want it higher?"

"No, that's enough," she winced. "Is Mike dead? You've never lied to me, Terry. Please don't start now. Is he dead?" She repeated as she watched one of hers' and Mike's dearest friends face for clues.

"He's not dead, Jill. But, it's bad."

"How bad?"

"His father had to call a priest," he said as Jill gasped in horror. "He's had to undergo surgery twice and they aren't sure that's the end of it. His lungs are bruised, so they've got him on a ventilator. His left leg was broken in two places and he also broke his left forearm and wrist. What parts of him that aren't in plaster are wrapped in bandages, wires, and tubes. The head injury is what the doctor's are most concerned about, Jill. He isn't responding to anything. Do you remember anything about the accident?"

"I just remember waking up after. I tried calling to Mike, but he wouldn't answer me. I touched his hand . . . and when I brought my hand back, my hand was covered in his blood," she sobbed. "Are his parents still here?"

"They were, but apparently waiting isn't their forte."

"They went home?" She shouted before wincing in pain.

"Jill, take it easy," he soothed her. "Your father-in-law said that they'd keep in touch."

"Have you seen him? You, Chris, or Eddie? I don't want him to be alone."

"Jill, he's in ICU. They wouldn't let us in with Mike because technically we're not family. Your father-in-law agreed with them."

"You are family," she said through gritted teeth. "I want to talk to Mike's doctor."

"Jill, you need to relax," she looked toward the door where Lt. Ryker was standing.

"Eddie, I don't want him alone," tears ran down her cheeks as the lieutenant strode over and sat on the edge of her bed, carefully pulling her against his chest as she cried. "I don't want Mike to wake up and wonder where I am. I don't want him to think that something awful has happened to me."

"There's a captain from the highway patrol here with some questions. Do you feel up to talking to him?"

"Eddie, I don't remember anything," she continued to sob. "One minute, Mike and I were talking and the next someone was calling out to me. Who hit us? Or did Mike . . . "

"The accident wasn't Mike's fault," he was quick to assure her.

"Is everyone from the other car okay?" She asked as he averted his eyes. "Eddie?"

"Webster, why don't you see if you can page Danko's doctor," the lieutenant looked toward Terry, who nodded and left the room. "I don't want you worrying about the other car right now. I want you to concentrate on taking care of yourself so that you can get out of here and take care of Mike."

"Have you seen Mike?"

"Just through the glass doors of his room. Jill, witnesses on the scene said that Mike appeared to swerve the car right before the impact. One of the witnesses said they think if he hadn't done that, the other car would've ended up right on top of your car, possibly killing one or both of you."

Jill had a flash of a car flying through the air, but it was just as quickly gone. "He swerved so that he took the impact?"

"It looks that way. You have to admit that it sounds like Mike."

"Do you know what my injuries are?"

"You have a concussion, three broken ribs and a shitload of cuts and bruises. Right now, I'd hate to see what the other guy looks like," he looked at her ruefully as she laughed.

"I used to look like this a lot," she remembered as he helped her settle against her pillow once again.

"When you were with Cleve?" He asked as she nodded.

"They paged Dr. Hill," Terry said as he re-entered the room. "Chris was wondering if he could come in to check on you."

"I'm okay," she insisted stubbornly.

"Jill, he's been worried about you, too," Terry answered back. "Please give him a chance."

Terry and the lieutenant knew how hard it was for Jill to adjust to Chris. But, Mike had explained to them that was just the way that she was. It was difficult for her to make new friends. Terry remembered that much to be true from the early days of their friendship. There were times that she had detested him and Willie.

But, a large part of the problem had to do with history. Chris didn't share the history that Jill had with Terry, the lieutenant, and mainly, Mike. And, she wasn't in a big hurry to give him a history lesson. She just wanted Chris to leave her alone. The harder that she tried to push Chris away, the harder he tried to get her to include him. Mike had gone so far as to tell the young rookie to please leave her alone.

"He can come in," she finally said as Terry stepped out, returning a moment later with Chris.

"I'm glad to see that you're awake," he said as he walked over to her bed. "How do you feel?"

"Like I got hit by a train. Have you seen Mike?"

"Just through the glass. Your father-in-law . . . "

"I know," she sighed. "I'm going to change that. I'm really tired. Will you wake me when Mike's doctor gets here?" She looked at Terry.

"Yeah," Terry turned toward his partner. "Let's get some coffee."

"Eddie?" She looked at her husband's immediate boss. "Will you sit here until I go to sleep?"

"Yeah, sweetie. You rest now," he smoothed a hand on her forehead as she closed her eyes.

"Eddie, do you know that song _(Today I Met) The Boy I'm Gonna Marry?_" She asked as her eyes remained closed.

"Yeah, I know it," he smiled.

"I bought that song on a 45 when I was 11 or 12," she remembered. "It was one of my favorite songs. The day that Michael walked into that bar, I heard that song in my head. That's how I knew I was going to marry him."

"But, you told me that you didn't like him," he reminded her as he smiled.

"No, I didn't. But, I still knew I was going to marry him. I hear that song almost every time I look at him," she opened her eyes and smiled as her eyes misted over.

"Sleep, honey. You're going to need your strength for Mike."

Lt. Ryker was still sitting by Jill's bedside when Dr. Albert Hill entered the room. "I understand that Mrs. Danko wanted to see me."

"Yes, she did," he started to wake her when she opened her eyes. "Jill, this is Dr. Hill. He's Mike's primary doctor. I'm going to step outside."

"Your husband . . . "

"Mike," Jill corrected him as he looked at her. "His name is Mike."

"Okay," he said as he sat in a chair. "Mike has some extremely critical injuries. He has seven broken ribs, his heart and lungs are severely bruised from him hitting the steering wheel in the accident. His left leg is broken in two places and he broke his right forearm and wrist. But, the injury that has me that most concerned is a head injury. Fortunately, he didn't fracture his skull, but we did have to operate on him earlier for bleeding on his brain. There's been no swelling, but he's not responding to stimuli."

"His parents didn't try talking to him?"

"Your in-law's weren't comfortable going into the ICU," he admitted as Jill made a face. "Do you feel up to visiting him?"

"That's a stupid question," she snarled. "But, I also want our friends to be allowed to visit him. They're the closest thing to family that Mike and I have."

"I'll get an orderly with a wheelchair," he said as he got up and left the room.

An orderly entered the room followed by a nurse and they helped Jill into the chair. She cried out as they moved her. "I'm sorry, Jill," the nurse apologized as she placed a light blanket over her legs.

As they wheeled her upstairs to the ICU, she tried to brace herself for how she imagined Mike would look. But her imagination was no match for the reality. His head had been shaved and was partially wrapped in white gauze. His entire face was black, blue, and purple, including his eyelids. His broken leg was in traction. There was every kind of tube and wire exiting from various points on his body. "Oh, Mike," she sobbed as the orderly got her as close to the bed as he could get her. "I love you, Mike." She hesitantly touched his forehead, hoping that he'd open his eyes and give her that smile that was only meant for her.

Inside of his badly injured body, Mike could hear Jill's sweet voice, although it sounded as if it was coming from a wind tunnel. He remembered all too vividly the moments after the accident. He could hear the paramedics talking to Jill. He could hear the terror in her voice as she begged to wait for him. But hearing her told him that she was all right. Hearing her told him that he'd done the right thing. He hadn't failed her this time.

The captain from the highway patrol approached Lt. Ryker after he'd left Jill's room. "How's Mrs. Danko?" He asked.

"She's understandably very worried about her husband."

"Were you able to talk to her about the accident?"

"She doesn't remember anything."

"Are you very close to her? I mean, I know that her husband is one of your officer's, but you seem overly concerned about her, as well."

"Of course I'm concerned. She and her husband were in a serious car accident," Ryker looked at the captain. "How is the driver of the other car?"

"She's fine. I spoke to her doctor and he said they'll probably be releasing her into our custody sometime tomorrow. I was about to go back upstairs to question her. Would you care to join me?"

"Yes, I would," Ryker said as both men walked to the elevator.

Jill was wheeled back to her room after visiting with Mike for 10 minutes. As she was helped back into bed, her mind went back to the journey to the hospital.

_As she was placed on the gurney and moved toward the ambulance, Jill caught a glimpse of the car. Her side looked almost pristine, but there were sparks coming from the other side where the firefighters were working to extricate Mike using the Jaws of Life. "Are you sure that I can't wait for Mike?" She once again begged the young paramedic who'd been by her side the entire time._

"_I'm sorry, but we need to get you to the hospital. Jill, they're going to get him out of that car in no time and he's going to be in the next ambulance."_

"_I don't know why he wouldn't answer me," she said as she began sobbing. "He's bleeding so badly."_

"_I don't know, Jill, but he's going to be okay. You have to believe that."_

"_I know, because I can't live without him."_

_She drifted in and out of consciousness during the ride to the hospital. She jolted awake as they were moving her into a trauma room. She groaned as the doctor shined a light into her eyes. She could feel her clothes being cut away as she was put into a gown. _

"_Mike? Is he here yet?" She asked as she was being assessed._

"_He'll be here soon," the doctor told her._

"_. . . don't know how much longer it's going to take to cut him out of the car. They said it could be another 20 minutes," she heard a disembodied voice saying._

"_Are they talking about Mike? Why is it taking so long to get him out of the car?" She tried to sit up, almost screaming out from the pain. _

"_Jill, you need to relax," the doctor told her._

"_No! I want someone to tell me what's going on!"_

"_Your car took an almost direct side impact," the doctor said as Jill looked at him in horror. "The impact drove the driver's side door into the frame of the car. We're in contact with the firefighters and the paramedics on the scene, Jill. Yes, it's taking longer than they would like to get him out of the car, but paramedics are in the car with him. They've got him stabilized."_

"_How much longer until he's here?"_

"_They don't know. It could be an hour, maybe longer. But, he's going to get here and we're going to take care of him. Right now, I need to you to relax and let me take care of you."_

"Jill?" She opened her eyes to her father-in-law standing in her doorway. "I called and they told me that you were awake. May I come in?" He asked as she nodded, wincing at the pain in her head and neck.

"I just came back from seeing Michael," she whispered as he sat down.

"Is he conscious?" He asked as she shook her head. "Can I ask a question? Were you or Michael drinking?"

"Are you serious? I was told that the accident wasn't Michael's fault."

"It wasn't," he was quick to assure her. "The other driver was at fault. I'm sure that she'll be going to jail soon enough. I just have to know. Were you or Michael drinking?" He repeated the question.

"Mike will never drink if he knows he's going to be driving. As for me, I had one glass of wine with lunch. Why? Are you going to blame me even though I wasn't driving? Go ahead! You have blamed me for every fucking thing Mike has done since before I married him! You've blamed me for things he did before I even met him! How dare you!"

It was Chris who heard the raised voice coming from Jill's room. He raced in to see her sitting upright in bed raging against Mike's father, who he'd only met for the first time earlier that morning. "What's going on?" He asked as he approached the bed.

"Get him out of here!" Jill screamed. "Your son is fighting for his life and you have the nerve to try to pin it on me!"

"I had to know, Jill. You know that," Mr. Danko said as he got up and quickly left the room.

"Jill, please calm down," Chris urged her as she began to cry hysterically. "What did he say to you?"

Instead of answering, she held her arms out to him as for a split second Chris wondered what he was supposed to do. "Chris, Mike . . . he looks like he's going to die! I can't live without him! Who'll take care of me if he dies?"

"Hey, he's not going to die," Chris whispered as he pulled her close. "Please don't cry. I don't deal very well with crying women."

"Then, you'd better not ever get married," she said as she pulled away and wiped her face as Chris handed her a tissue. "He wanted to know if Mike or I had been drinking."

"Mike's father?" He asked as Jill nodded. "The tests were clean, for both of you. Why would he want to know if you'd been drinking? How could that possibly make any difference?"

"Because it would be one more thing he could blame on me. He's done it since Mike introduced me to him."

Chris didn't say anything, thinking of how little he knew about his new friend's wife. He knew the basics, of course. She was married to Mike and was clearly crazy about him, as Mike was about her. But, everything else about her personal life she kept pretty close to her chest. "Get some rest," he finally said. "Don't worry about Mike's old man. Let Terry and I take care of things for a change."

"Okay," she closed her eyes and went to sleep.

One of the floor nurses was walking past when Chris exited Jill's room. "Excuse me," he called out to her as she turned around. "I was wondering if you could do something."

"What do you need? Is Jill in pain?" The nurse asked anxiously.

"No, at least I don't think so. She's asleep," he gave her a small smile. "Her father-in-law was in her room a short while ago and he upset her. Is there any way he can be prevented from visiting her?"

"There is, but the directive has to come from Jill," the nurse gave Chris an apologetic smile as she hurried on her way.

"What's going on?" Chris turned to find Terry approaching him. "Is Jill okay?"

"Yeah, but Mike's old man really upset her. He wanted to know if she or Mike had been drinking."

"His old man is constantly giving her grief," Terry groaned. "Neither of them needs this right now. I'll see if I can talk to him."

Terry took the elevator back upstairs, hoping to intercept Mike's father outside of his ICU cubicle. He could still remember when Mike had told him how much his father disliked Jill.

"_So, what are you and Jill doing for Thanksgiving?" Terry had asked Mike just weeks before as the two men took a lunch break during work._

"_I'm taking her skiing," Mike said as he opened his hamburger, adding salt, pepper, and ketchup to the bun before closing it._

"_Uh, don't take this the wrong way, but I don't see your wife as the skiing type."_

"_She isn't, which is why I'm going to teach her," Mike grinned._

"_So, you're not spending the holiday with family?"_

"_Jill's family is in Alabama, and my father . . . well, let's just say that it's complicated."_

"_He doesn't like Jill?" Terry guessed as Mike shook his head. "Are you kidding? What's not to like?"_

"_Let me see," Mike began ticking reasons off on his fingers. "She's uneducated, she's much younger than me, her family life is . . . well, let's just not go there. Oh, she used to drink and take drugs."_

"_Has he even given her a chance?"_

"_Do you remember the Academy fiasco?" Mike asked, referring to his failure to inform Jill that he was out of the service and attending the police academy._

"_Yeah, I remember. I think you're going to be making that mistake up to Jill until you're at least 90," Terry pointed out as Mike nodded. "What about it?"_

"_Well, it seems that Jill came to my father wanting to know where I was. He lied to her and told her that he hadn't seen me, when in fact, I was living with my folks before I enrolled in the academy."_

"_So, you're taking her skiing," Terry grinned as he began eating his lunch._

"_Exactly," Mike grinned._

"There's no change," he turned to find Mr. Danko standing beside him.

"I understand that you saw Jill a while ago," Terry said.

"Yes, I did," he admitted.

"I'm sure that the doctor told you that both of them had clean blood tests," Terry pointed out.

"Actually, he told me that Jill's blood alcohol was about the equivalent of having consumed a glass or two of wine within an hour of the accident."

"Which is still within the legal limit, besides which, she _wasn't _driving," Terry looked at the elder man, his dark eyes flashing.

"She's got you and your friend as snowed as she has Michael," he said.

"Jill doesn't have anybody snowed," Terry argued. "But, you know what? I'm not going to stand here and talk about why you dislike her so much."

"I need to go," the elder Danko said, pointedly glancing at his watch. "You'll make sure that Jill keeps Michael's mother and myself updated if there are any changes?"

"She'll keep you posted," Terry said as he watched Mr. Danko walk to the elevators.

Terry sighed, thinking of how much he hated being dragged into this war between Jill and Mike's father. He felt that it wasn't any of his business. But, Mike was his best friend, and as a result, he felt it was his place to look after Jill when Mike was unable to. Although the last time he'd done Mike that favor, it had almost ended in disaster. He and Willie had found themselves looking down the business end of a 9 mm pistol. If it hadn't been for Mike's quick reflexes, the two of them, as well as Jill, would be dead now.

When Terry stepped into Jill's room, he paused as he noticed that she was sleeping. But, as if sensing that she wasn't alone, she opened her eyes and smiled at him. "I'm used to Mike watching me when I sleep," she continued smiling as he walked over and pulled up a chair. "I have to admit that having you watch me is a little creepy."

"I'll keep that in mind," he laughed. "I didn't mean to wake you. I was about to head for home and was wondering if I could bring anything back for you."

"Terry, do you think Mike knew that I was there a little while ago?" She asked, ignoring his question.

"I'm sure that he probably did. Mike always knows that you're there, remember?"

"Maybe I should read to him," she said as Terry nodded. "Can you go to the apartment and bring back his Edgar Allan Poe book? It's on the bottom shelf in the living room."

"I'll bring it to you in the morning. Get some rest," he stood up and kissed her on the forehead before leaving her room.

Upstairs, in an expensive private room, Isabelle Hodges was staring petulantly into space as Capt. Cragen and Lt. Ryker attempted to question her. "Ms. Hodges, this would go a lot more smoothly if you would cooperate with us," Capt. Cragen pointed out to her.

"Officer, can't you see that my daughter isn't in the mood for your interrogation?" Raymond Hodges, Isabelle's father, walked over to his daughter and pulled her against his chest.

"Mr. Hodges, she needs to get in the mood pretty quickly. She's being released from the hospital in two days and is being taken directly into custody. She's facing some very serious charges. One count of intoxication manslaughter and four counts of intoxication assault, which could change if either Officer Danko or Mr. Wentworth die," Cragen said to the young woman and her father.

"Daddy, how can I go to jail if I don't remember anything?" Isabelle wailed as she clung to her father.

"Don't worry about it," he patted her on the head as the two cops stood by, feeling sick. "From now on, if you wish to talk to Isabelle, you can do it through her attorney."

"Very well," Cragen said as he and Ryker left the hospital room. "Rich kids," he spit out the words bitterly. "Too much money and no common sense. How is Officer Danko?"

"Barely holding on. His wife went to see him a while ago. How's the Wentworth kid?" Ryker asked as they stood by the elevator.

"The last that I heard, he was being taken back to surgery. It didn't sound very promising," the doors opened and Terry and Chris stepped off.

"Did you talk to the Hodges girl?" Terry asked his boss.

"She claims that she doesn't remember anything. Tomorrow, I want you to drive over and talk to the Billings boy. He was released this afternoon. Then, go and talk to witnesses from the accident site. I'll give you a list of names in the morning. How's Jill?" Ryker asked.

"Asleep. She's positive that Mike knew that she was there. Maybe he did, I don't know," Terry shrugged as the four men stepped onto the elevator. "We'll see you tomorrow, sir."

"You're close to that young woman," Cragen looked at Ryker as they left the hospital and walked toward their respective cars.

"That young woman and her husband. She's the closest thing to the daughter I never had," Ryker smiled as he unlocked his car.

"You might want to keep some perspective," Cragen reminded him as he went to his own car, which was parked nearby.

Ryker sat behind the wheel of his car and thought about the captain's words. Perspective. There was no such thing where his relationship with Jill was concerned. They'd been angry at each other. They'd made each other laugh at times. But, they'd also revealed things to each other that none of the other men knew.

"_How did you know that you were going to marry Mary Kate?" Jill asked as they sat in lawn chairs on the dock at the lake house one afternoon. "Did you see her and know that she was the one?"_

"_I wanted to date her sister," Eddie grinned in remembrance as Jill looked at him and grinned back. "But, her sister hated me."_

"_So, her loss was your gain."_

"_Not at first. It took me a while to even realize that Mary Kate even existed. But, once I did, she was all I thought about," he remembered. "So, tell me about you and Mike. Something other than the fact that he was a pest," he looked at her, referring to something she'd told him earlier._

"_I think he fell in love with me completely by accident. At first, he thought he was just there to rescue me," she remembered._

"_Rescue you from what?" _

"_A living, breathing nightmare," she answered as she looked at her friend. "I told him once that I didn't need him to come and ride in on his white horse to rescue me, but maybe I really did."_

"_Did you know right away that he was the one?" He asked, throwing her earlier question back at her._

"_Oh, yeah," she said as he laughed. "I kept hearing the words to the song '(Today I Met) The Boy I'm Gonna Marry.' But, I couldn't let him know that he was 'the one.' At least, not right away."_

"_Playing hard to get, were you?" Eddie teased._

"_You could say that."_

Jill woke up in the middle of the night. She could hear the noises of the hospital late at night. She winced as she struggled to sit up in the hard hospital bed. Her neck was still incredibly sore, but at least nothing was broken. She remembered the doctor telling her how lucky she was. She picked up the call button and pushed it, listening as footsteps approached her door. "Jill, do you need something for pain?" A Nurse asked as she entered the room.

"No, I was wondering if I could go and sit with Mike for a little while?"

"Jill, visiting hours . . . "

"I know that visiting hours are over," she looked at the nurse. "I have to be with him. I don't want him to be alone."

"Let me see what I can do," the nurse smiled as she left the room.

The nurse returned approximately 10 minutes later, followed by an orderly who was pushing a wheelchair in front of him. They helped her into it and took her upstairs to ICU, where everything looked the same as it had a few hours later when she'd last seen him.

Jill looked around at all of the monitors that were keeping her husband alive. All of the beeps and clicks were a rhythm to the life of the ICU. "Mike? Michael? Come on, Mike. I know that you're in there somewhere," she leaned as close as she could to his ear. "I'm beginning to wonder what the other guy looks like. You look like you went 10 rounds with Ali and lost. Do you remember what we were talking about on the drive back? About how much I didn't like you when I first met you? I'm so, so sorry that I ever acted that way. You were nothing but sweet from that very first day. I didn't have a right to treat you the way that I did. I was just afraid."

From the deep recesses of his brain, Mike could hear Jill's voice. He wanted to answer her, to let her know that he was still here. He just couldn't move anything. He knew that she'd been afraid. It had been written all over her face. He used to think that her face was all eyes. At least it had been that first day he'd seen her in that bar, in what seemed to be another lifetime. She told him sometime later that she'd known that she was going to marry him. She said that she'd heard the words to some stupid Darlene Love song.

He was accused by everybody of using Jill as his own pet project, something that he needed to fix. While it was true that he felt that she needed to be fixed, he'd never once considered her a 'pet project.' When he'd fallen in love with her, he'd fallen harder than he ever had in his life. Even now how hard he'd fallen scared him. That feeling had intensified with the recent return of Cleve Andrews. When Lt. Ryker had told him about Andrews' stint in a hospital for the criminally insane, Mike had never been more terrified in his life. What if they got to her too late? What if Andrews hurt her? What would he do without her?

He remembered when the decision to marry her had first come to light.

"_How many times can one girl listen to one song?" His old friend, Garry Cateshah, complained one day while he was visiting Mike in his BOQ (Bachelor Officer's Quarters). _

"_Which song are you talking about today?" Mike teased as he handed Garry a beer and sat down on his battered sofa._

"_I think its The Ronettes. Mike, she must've played it 30 times. Rick even threatened to take Ray's baseball bat and break the damn jukebox with it. Do you ever stop to ask yourself what you're letting yourself in for?"_

"_It's Darlene Love, and yes, I ask myself that question every day and every day I come up with the same answer," Mike answered his friend earnestly._

"_Which is?" Garry wanted to know._

"_I'm going to marry that girl," he smiled as he took a swallow of his beer._

Everybody from his best friend to his father had told him that he was crazy. They had all told him in a hundred different ways that Jill would ruin his life. And, he'd told every one of them that wasn't going to happen. And, it hadn't. If anything, she had brightened his life in so many ways. There had been bumps in the road. That was going to be true of any marriage. But, she hadn't ruined his life. She had only made it better. That was why he'd done what he did that day. Hearing her voice beside him right now told him that he'd made the right decision. Because that's what heroes do. They make things right.

Jill was holding his uninjured hand, deep in her own thoughts, when she thought she felt a light squeeze. "Mike? Did you squeeze me hand? Can you do it again, sweetheart?"

"You need to go back to your own room, Jill," she turned to find one of the nurses standing behind her.

"He just squeezed my hand!"

"Jill, I'm sure it was just a reflex. We haven't even been able to wean him from the vent, yet. It could be days before he regains consciousness. In the meantime, you need to rest so that you can get your own strength back. I'll send in an orderly."

"Michael, I know that it wasn't a reflex. I know you're in there somewhere. I love you so much," she pressed his hand to her cheek as tears ran freely down her face.

Mike so wished that he could pull her close and comfort her as he'd done so many times in the past. But, right now his broken body just didn't want to cooperate. He just hoped he could come back to her soon.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

**Mike is trapped inside of his badly injured body, but his memories aren't necessarily bad ones. This chapter is rated M, for what will soon be very obvious reasons.**

**I love Bob Dylan. Even though some of his songs are strange and he's often difficult to understand, I still love him. One of my best memories was getting to actually see him live in 1991. It was at an outdoor theater and it was the middle of August and hotter than hell, but I still had the best time of my life. The song for this chapter is called 'Just Like a Woman' and it's one of my favorite Dylan songs, besides 'Hurricane' and 'Like a Rolling Stone.'**

Inside of his trapped mind and body, Mike's thoughts weren't exactly unpleasant ones. He'd heard Jill's voice the day before and he'd wanted to answer her, to let her know that he was okay. It was just so much more pleasant to stay where he was. It was painful to be touched, and it seemed that all the doctors and nurses wanted to do was prod him and stick him with needles. He just wanted to be left alone with his thoughts. The only voice he wanted to hear was Jill's. As long as he could hear her and know that she was all right, then he didn't care about anything else.

His favorite memories were from the beginning of their relationship. Sunday mornings were his favorite time to be with Jill. Sunday mornings meant that he didn't have anything to do on base and Jill's Uncle Ray closed the bar down. It was a morning meant for sleeping late and then reading the paper in bed together.

Jill didn't like to sleep in his arms. After they made love, she'd let him hold her for a little while, but once she started getting drowsy, she'd move far away from him. He'd been doing everything in his power to change that, but so far, he hadn't been successful. He liked to wake up before her in the morning and just watch her sleep. She hated knowing that he did that. She didn't understand what she deemed his obsession with watching her as she slept. He couldn't make her understand that it was because he loved her so much and he didn't want to miss a minute of being with her. All too soon, he'd be leaving for Vietnam. He wanted to spend as much time watching her as he could.

Jill opened her eyes when she sensed that she was being watched. She rolled over onto her back to find Mike propped up on one elbow, watching her. "You know, if I didn't love you so much, I'd find you watching me as I sleep very creepy," she complained as a small smile played on her lips.

"I like hearing you say that," he moved closer to her to pull her into his arms.

"You like hearing me saying what?" She smiled as he tightened his arms around her.

"That you love me. I know that it was hard for you to say it for a long time," he remembered as he continued holding her.

"Good morning," she slipped her hand around his neck and drew his head down toward her as they shared the first kiss of the morning. "What do you want to do today?"

"Oh, I'm sure that I'll think of something," he teased as he let his hand caress her side.

"Is that all you ever think about?" She asked as she reached for his hand before he got any bolder. This was still a side of their relationship that she was trying to get used to.

"No, it's not the only thing that I think about," he insisted.

"Oh, and just what else do you think about?" She asked, willing to play his game.

"You," he kissed her again. "For the past several months, you're all I think about."

"I'm glad that I've replaced sex," she said as Mike laughed. She could feel the coolness of her engagement ring against Mike's neck. She still couldn't believe that he'd asked her to marry him. "I just hope that I'm worth it."

"Oh, you are," he said in a husky voice as he brushed a lock of hair from her face. "I love you very much, too."

Mike's reverie was interrupted by the sound of human voices surrounding his bed. 'Oh, great,' he thought to himself, "'time for rounds.'"

Rounds meant that he was on display for the interns to hopefully learn something. "Patient is 34 years old. Two days ago, he and his wife were involved in an automobile accident."

'The Patient' felt like telling whoever was talking to shut up and let him go back to his Sunday morning with his wife. But, 'The Patient's' body didn't want to cooperate. He could hear all of the clicks, buzzes, and beeps that were going on around him. That was another thing. How in the hell did anybody sleep in the ICU? It had to be the noisiest place in the entire hospital. If he could wake up, he'd complain to somebody. He struggled to move his right hand, the only part of his body that didn't seem to have something attached to it. His eyes were so heavy; they seemed to be glued to his face.

After several minutes of questions and answers, his audience finally left, allowing him to return to his Sunday morning in Alabama with Jill.

"We were talking about what we were going to do today," Jill reminded Mike as he continued holding her. She gasped as he moved down to kiss her neck. She'd never realized that there were so many areas of her body that were so sensitive to his kisses and caresses. That is, until Mike showed her. He had the ability to make her forget everything but how he could make her body feel. "Mike, are you listening to me?"

"Always, baby," he nipped at the tender skin on her collarbone. "We'll talk about what we're going to do in a little while." He felt her squirm as she tried to pull out of his arms. "Why are you so shy this morning?" He pulled away to look into her eyes. He always loved the way her eyes sparkled and shined as she smiled at him.

"I'm not shy," she protested as she felt his hand creep under her gown. "What're you doing?" She tried not to laugh as his fingers crept higher.

"You have to ask?" He asked in mock annoyance as his fingers found their target. He instantly felt her nipple harden under his fingers as he gently caressed her. "Still feeling shy?"

"A little," she admitted as he kissed her. She could feel his desire for her, which made her feel even shier.

Mike smiled against her mouth as he felt her tentatively touch him through his pajama bottoms. She unbuttoned his pajama shirt before slipping it off of his shoulders, where it tangled around his wrists. "Hold on," he reluctantly pulled away from her as he sat up and removed the offending article of clothing.

After removing the shirt and tossing it to the floor, he moved back down to once again enfold her into his arms.

If he could, he would've groaned aloud at the memories he was invoking right now. Not to mention at the constant interruptions. But, this time it was a good interruption. "Good morning, sweetheart," he heard Jill's voice as he felt her hand covering his. "My doctor said that he's releasing me tomorrow, so I'll be able to visit you much more often. Right now, they're concerned with me resting. They don't understand that I don't want to rest."

He felt like telling her that her doctor was right. She needed her rest. He wondered how badly she'd been hurt. He hoped that he'd kept her reasonably safe. Once again, he struggled to make his hand move. In his mind, he succeeded, but Jill didn't react, so he must be wrong. He wanted to open his eyes and look at her, to see the look that was reserved just for him. The look she gave him when nobody else was looking.

Jill couldn't think of what to say. She didn't want to tell him how awful he looked, although she thought he looked slightly better than when she'd visited him the day before. "I haven't seen Terry and Chris today," she continued chattering as she stroked his hand gently. "They must be on duty. Terry said that he has your things. I'll get them back from him this afternoon when I see him."

She felt like screaming as she sat by his bed, mindlessly stroking his hand. "This is so pointless!" She suddenly shouted as she burst into tears. "Mike, please wake up and talk to me! I don't know what happened that day! I need for you to fill in the blanks. I need for you to wake up and tell me how much you love me."

One of the nurses suddenly entered the room. "If you're going to get hysterical, you're going to have to leave," she admonished Jill. "There are other families visiting their loved ones, too. You're not the only person here."

'Stop talking to her like that!' Mike screamed inside his head. He hated it when she was upset. It broke his heart to hear her cry. The first time he'd felt that way where she was concerned was early on a Saturday morning. The first time he'd ever come to her rescue. When he finally realized that she needed someone to rescue her. But, it wouldn't be the last time. The most recent time had to do with that same person who'd hurt her so badly for so long. He'd been holding a gun to the back of her head, preparing to shoot her when Mike had dove from out of nowhere and tackled him to the ground. Ryker had then shot Cleve, ending his hold on Jill, once and for all. Although in her ever-present dreams, he still had a hold on her.

"I have to go, Mike," she whispered after the nurse left. "I can only come in here for a few minutes at a time. I'll come back later this afternoon. Maybe they'll let Terry and Chris visit when they get here. I love you. Please come back to me."

Once again, one of the monitors began frantically beeping. The same nurse who'd chastised Jill moments before came rushing in. She adjusted some dials along with Mike's IV as the beeping stopped. "What's going on?" Jill asked.

"Everything's fine now. He was probably dreaming. Your time is up," the nurse looked at her pointedly.

Jill started to walk slowly away from Mike's bed, but she suddenly stopped at the foot of the bed. "Has he done that before?" She asked.

"Done what?" The nurse asked nonchalantly.

"Moved his hand."

In his head, Mike shouted triumphantly. "It's probably involuntary. I'll page the doctor and let him know," the nurse said as she left the room.

Jill smiled broadly as she moved to the foot of the bed and put her hand on his leg. "I told them that you were coming back, but nobody believed me. I love you. I'll see you later."

In his head, he smiled at the feel of her hand on his leg. He remembered a time when she hadn't wanted to touch him at all.

"Did I ever tell you how cute you are when you're acting shy?" Mike pulled her closer after he'd shed the rest of his clothes.

"I don't mean to act this way, Mike," she told him as he kissed her.

"Hey, I'm not complaining. I like having you right here, in my arms, in my bed. I don't care how shy you act."

"Actually, this is **my **bed," she corrected him as she stroked his back with the tips of her fingers.

"Someday, it'll be **our **bed," he gasped at the feeling of her fingers trailing down his back. "Hey, you're the big Dylan fan. Do you remember that one song . . . 'she takes just like a woman, she makes love just like a woman, but she breaks like a little girl."

"I think you're missing a line, but when I think of that song, I always think of the line about 'her fog, her amphetamines, and her pearls,'" she smiled as she kissed him. "That was my life before you."

"With Johnny Walker instead of amphetamines?"

"Most of the time. I was wired on my own. I didn't need uppers to add to the mix. But, I have a question."

"Which is?" He asked as he leaned down to kiss her shoulder and neck.

"Why am I still wearing a nightgown when you're not wearing anything at all?" She grinned as Mike pulled away to look at her.

"Oh, you want to get rid of the nightgown now, do you?" He grinned mischievously as she nodded. She sat up as he lifted the gown over her head and tossed it toward the end of the bed.

He loved the feel of her bare flesh against his. He loved looking at her, and touching her. He loved every aspect of his new life with her. But, these mornings together were always the best times of all. He let his fingers drift down her body slowly, leisurely, as if he had all of the time in the world. Which he did, as far as he was concerned.

"Have you turned down the settings on the ventilator?" The doctor asked.

"Yes, but we had to reset them."

Mike remembered that all too well. It had happened earlier that morning. He had heard someone come in, and do some adjustments. Suddenly, he felt as if he was suffocating. Alarms went off in the room, and more adjustments were made. As suddenly as it had begun, he was able to breathe once again.

"We'll try again tomorrow," the doctor said as he and the nurse left the room.

Mike wondered as his visitors left the room if every part of his body was broken. With the thoughts that he was having, it would be embarrassing if certain parts of his anatomy were in perfect working order. But, then again, at least it would prove that part of him was still alive.

Mike had once told Jill that a past girlfriend had accused him of having rushin' hands and roamin' fingers. He loved proving that theory correct. Jill cried out and whimpered as he worked those hands and fingers on her body. "I love you, Mike, but you're driving me crazy," she complained as she clung to him.

"Driving you crazy in a good way or a bad way?" He wanted to know as he pulled away to look at her.

"You're loving this, aren't you?"

"And, you aren't?" He challenged as he continued touching her in all of the right places.

Jill blushed a deep shade of red as she averted her eyes. "Hey," he reached up and tilted her head up to meet his eyes, "there's nothing wrong with admitting that you like what I'm doing."

It all went back to that Thanksgiving night when they'd made love for the first time. It all had to do with Jill trying to erase the demons from her past. Cleve had hurt her terribly. Mike had slowly begun to tear those walls down around her. The memories of being assaulted every night. The memories of a person who used sex as a weapon. At times, he thought her shyness was cute. After all, it was a part of who Jill was. But, at other times, like right now, he wanted to make love. He didn't feel like tearing down more walls. "I love you," he whispered as he kissed her. "I want you so badly. And, I can tell that you want me, too."

"Then, why are you wasting time torturing me?" She teased as she reached her hand down and gently stroked him, eliciting a groan of desire from him.

"You're right. This is ridiculous," he removed her hand and guided himself into her, smiling as she now let out a loud groan.

Making love to Jill was always so good that he never wanted it to end. But, inevitably, all good things have to end. He felt her clamp down around him, crying out his name, before he came, as well. "Things would've lasted longer if you hadn't spent so much time torturing me," Jill reminded him as she stroked his neck tenderly.

"Give me an hour and we'll do this again," he kissed her lingeringly before rolling over onto his back.

"An hour?" She teased him as she sat up and pulled the sheet up. "The first night we were together, it only took you about 20 minutes to rev up for round two."

"I was younger then," he sighed drowsily as she started laughing.

"Sweetheart, that was two months ago," she laid her head in the hollow of his shoulder as he slipped his arm around her.

"Like I said, I was younger then," he kissed the top of her head as he tightened his arm around her.

"So was I. I love you," she kissed his chest.

"I still love hearing you say that. By the way, I love you, too," he grinned as she couldn't help but grin back.

How many times had they said those three simple words to each other? Every day, every time one of them left the apartment, those words were said. Every time they spoke to one another on the phone, those words were said. He wanted out of this trapped body so that he could say them again. He had to do more than simply make his hand move.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

**In the pilot, Jill was upset when Mike showed up after graduating from the Police Academy. In this chapter, she will be reminiscing about the amount of sucking up that Mike had to do following Officer Shaw's retirement party. Rated M for subject matter.**

**I'm a fan of Edgar Allan Poe and my favorite story is 'The Cask of Amontillado,' an excerpt of which will be read by Jill to Mike in this chapter. Please indulge me.**

Terry was standing outside of ICU when Jill emerged. "How is he?" He asked as he noticed that she was not in a wheelchair. "Didn't somebody wheel you up?"

"I'm not an invalid," she snapped as she walked to the elevator as Terry fell into step beside her. "His hand moved last night, but nobody believes me. He also squeezed my hand, but nobody believes that, either. I'm supposed to be talking to his doctor in about an hour."

"So, I brought his volume of Poe. I left it in your room."

"Thanks," she said as they got off of the elevator on her floor. "Are you still angry at us?"

"Angry? About what?"

"The whole Cleve thing. Mike told me that you were upset. I heard the two of you arguing that night," she said as they walked into her room.

"I wish that Mike had told me and Willie why he was concerned, but I got over my anger a long time ago."

"If I'd known . . . if I'd known about him, I wouldn't have gone with him, Terry."

"I know that. Why can't you talk to me about him?"

"Because it's between me and Mike. Because I know from things that Mike has said in the past that you guys talk when you're together. Because I don't entirely trust Chris just yet."

"Jill, I'd never repeat to Chris or anyone else anything that you said to me in confidence. You should know that by now."

"I can't tell you about him, Terry. You have to just let it go."

"Someday?"

"No," she shook her head.

"Are you upset because Mike left you alone with him?"

"No. I'm the one who insisted that Mike go. He didn't want to go. He wanted you or Willie to go." He smiled as she watched him warily. "What's so funny?"

"I was just wondering how different all of our lives would've been if you hadn't agreed to go to Officer Shaw's retirement party."

"Did Mike ever tell you how shocked I was when he showed up at the bowling alley that afternoon?"

"He mentioned something along the lines that if looks could've killed . . . "

"When he left me in Alabama, he was a soldier. When he re-entered my life in California, he was a cop."

"Big change."

"Huge," she agreed.

_Three and a half years earlier_

Jill drove home from the bowling alley, still in a daze following the encounter that she'd had with her husband just a few hours before. She hadn't seen Mike in over a year. Not one phone call, not one letter, nothing. But, one look into those blue-green eyes and she was gone. Just like always. She found herself wondering once again just how many girls he'd snared into his trap with those eyes.

And, like an idiot, she'd agreed to go to this stupid party with him. What was she thinking? It was like the fucking Army, all over again. She'd hated his army friends and their little army wives. Of course, the wives hadn't been crazy about her either. Mike had been 30 years old when they'd married and was already a major in the United States Army. By everything she'd learned, he was young for a major. His high rank at such a young age was due largely in part to a military school education along with rapid advancement due to being stationed in a combat zone.

The army wives were all a lot older than Jill, and they reminded her of it at every opportunity. She'd learned that the army consisted of a lot of sucking up and kissing ass. She also learned that the man she'd fallen in love with and the man she'd later married were two completely different people. She found herself wondering which Mike had walked into the bowling alley, because if it was the Mike that she'd married, he could go to hell.

She walked into her tiny apartment on the Venice boardwalk and put her purse on the counter. She glanced at her watch, knowing that her best friend, T.R. (Trap) Applegate would be calling her soon. He was the one who'd called her several days before, warning her that Mike had called him looking for her.

As if on cue, the phone rang. "Hi, Trap," she answered the phone.

"How'd you know it was me?" Her oldest friend chuckled.

"Because it's 5:30. I saw Mike today. Did you know that he's a cop now?"

"Did he tell you that I knew?" He threw back at her. "So, what did he say? Are you going to see him or did you tell him to drop dead?"

"He didn't say a whole hell of a lot. As for seeing him, he asked me to go to a party with him on Friday night," she stretched the phone cord out as she reached for the orange juice in her refrigerator.

"Are you going?" He asked, waiting for an answer. "Jill? Jill, please tell me that you told him no. Please tell me that you told him that you're seeing a divorce lawyer."

"Trap, how can I tell him something that isn't true? We both know I can't afford a damn lawyer."

"So, you're going to see him," he sounded extremely pissed off.

Jill sighed as she poured a glass of juice. She couldn't win no matter what she did. Trap and her sister Amanda had both been huge supporters of Mike, until he'd pulled this little disappearing act of his. Amanda loved asking her just what kind of a husband leaves his wife thousands of miles from home without a letter once in a while. Trap was fond of offering her money to hire a lawyer. She was tired of all of it. Defending her decisions was exhausting. "I don't expect you to understand, Trap. But yes, I'm going to the party."

"You know what's going to happen after the party, don't you? He's going to say, 'So Jill, why don't we go to my place so that we can talk.' Only, we both know that there isn't going to be any talking going on!"

"So fucking what?" Jill shouted into the phone. "You know what? I'm tired of justifying myself to you, and to Amanda, and to everybody else who thinks I've lost my mind! I love Mike, Trap, and I've missed him! I've missed him so much more than anybody knows. Does he owe me an explanation? Yes, he does. Am I going to buy into that explanation? I don't know yet. But, I'm willing to listen to it. I'm a big girl, Trap."

"I just don't want to see you hurt more badly than you've already been hurt, Jill."

"I'll talk to you later," she said as she ended the call.

"Mrs. Danko," Jill looked up as Mike's doctor, Dr. Hill, entered her room. "Let's talk about Mike."

"He squeezed my hand yesterday and he moved his hand last night when I was visiting him. I know that I didn't imagine that," Jill insisted as the doctor sat down.

"No one has said that you did. While I do believe some of what you witnessed is due to involuntary spasms, he does seem more responsive today. However, we've still been unable to wean him from the ventilator. This isn't an unexpected development since his chest injuries were quite severe."

"How severe? A friend of mine told me that his father asked for a priest."

"He had to be resuscitated in the ambulance en route to the hospital after the accident. His heart was shocked and he immediately responded. It's just going to take time."

"Do you think he's going to be all right?"

"He has a tremendous will. Right now I'm cautiously optimistic. But, you need to take care of yourself, too. He's going to need you to take care of him when he gets better."

Jill lay back against her pillows after the doctor left. She couldn't believe that Mike had actually died for a brief time. It made her wonder about the occupant or occupants of the other car. Were they okay? Had anybody died? What had been the cause of the accident? She'd heard accusations being hurled about as she was being taken to the ambulance, but nothing made any sense.

_Three years earlier_

It had been windy and cool all day that Friday. Jill decided to dress accordingly for the party. As she dressed, she found herself wondering just who this party was for. When Mike had come to the bowling alley earlier in the week with his invitation, he'd just said that it was a 'kind of party.' On the phone with him a couple of nights before, he'd indicated that his attendance was 'mandatory.'

"_Mandatory? What in the hell does that mean?" She'd asked him._

"_I'm not sure. All I know is the first day at muster, we were told about this party and then we were told about how 'disappointed' the guest of honor would be if we didn't attend. That was before we were socked with a 20 dollar surcharge. Per couple."_

"_Twenty bucks? For 20 bucks, they'd better be serving us filet mignon and Dom Perignon," Jill scoffed as Mike chuckled in response. "I'm serious, Mike! Do you have any idea how many groceries we could buy for 20 bucks?"_

"_Hey, I'm the guy who never has food in his place, remember?" When she didn't say anything, he took a deep breath. "Hey, Jill? Will you come home with me? After the party, I mean?"_

"_Mike, please don't ask me that right now. I'll see you Friday night."_

She glanced at her watch as she heard a rap on her front door. Damn Michael and his punctuality! When he told her that he'd pick her up at seven o'clock, he was there on the dot. There was no such thing as being fashionably late to her husband.

He gave her a huge smile when she opened the door. "Are you ready?" He asked as she nodded and grabbed her coat before closing and locking the door behind her.

"So, where's this party at?" She asked as he opened her car door for her, making sure that she was settled before closing the door and walking around to the driver's side.

"The Police Academy," he said as he started the car. "Actually the rec hall at the academy. We don't have to stay late. I just really want you to meet my friends."

"I could've just as easily met your friends seven months ago, Michael," she pointed out.

"Do we have to fight about this now?"

"No, but we're going to have to fight about it eventually. I have a question."

"Which is?"

"Did your parents know where you were?"

"My father is friends with the man who started the program. He's the one who suggested that I apply. Why do you ask?"

"It figures," she said under her breath before turning to look at him. "It doesn't matter now. Let's just try to have a nice time."

Jill was once again sitting at Mike's bedside, much as she had been almost every hour all day. The day before she'd just been too sore and still too weak to make the trek as often as she would've liked. In her hands, she clutched the volume of Edgar Allan Poe that Terry had brought to her that morning. She smiled as she thought of Mike reciting 'The Raven,' or 'Annabelle Lee,' or the two of them sitting up watching 'The Pit and the Pendulum' on late night TV. He loved Poe. But, instead of reading one of his favorites, she decided to read something different. She settled on 'The Cask of Amontillado.'

Feeling slightly foolish, but deciding that she had nothing to lose, she began to read. "_The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could; but when he ventured upon insult, I vowed revenge. _Mike, are you even listening to me?"

If he could've spoken, Mike would've begged her to continue reading. He didn't care what she read. She could read from the phone book, for all he cared. He just wanted to hear her voice. Poe was a good choice. His favorite poet/author as a child, his dark words reflected on the dark place that Mike felt he was in right now.

He wanted to wake up and tell her about the terror that he felt every time they came in to turn down the ventilator settings. Every time they messed with it, he immediately got the feeling that he had a pillow over his face. He could hear alarms going off before the suffocating feeling went away. After that, everything always got dark. He wondered if the time was going to come when they'd turn the settings down and he wouldn't be able to come back. He wanted to see Jill's beautiful face one more time. He wanted to hear the way that her soft Southern drawl moved over his name. He wanted to feel her skin under his fingers as he made love to her. He wanted to hear her sweet sighs as she responded to his touch.

"I wish you could tell me about the other car," she continued as she softly stroked the back of his hand. "I'd ask Terry, or Lt. Ryker, but they're both so busy working the case. I don't remember anything before the accident, Mike. I mean, I remember that we were coming back down the mountain, but I don't remember anything else. I remember telling you that I love you, and I'm glad that I was able to tell you that. When I tell you that I love you, I can't help but remember Birgitta. The first time I ever met her she was so shy about her English skills, but she was so insightful. Then, I remember how she looked at Jared's funeral when she was trying so hard to be brave."

Mike also remembered the girl with the long dark hair and the huge doe eyes, who reminded him so much of Jill. He knew that she was the reason that Jill never let him leave the apartment without first telling him that she loved him. Birgitta was part of the reason that Jill had agreed to give their marriage another try after his massive fuck-up.

When Jill left the ICU, she smiled to see Terry and Chris approaching her. "How's he doing?" Terry asked.

"The doctor says he's about the same, but I don't know. I think he has more color. Thanks for bringing the book," she smiled at Terry.

"You're welcome."

"How's the case coming along?"

"Okay," Chris looked at Terry, who merely shrugged in affirmation.

"How many people were in the other car?" She asked as they walked her to the elevator.

"When are you getting out of here?" Chris asked, ignoring her question.

"In a couple of days, I think," she stopped before hitting the 'down' button on the elevator. "Did somebody in the other car die?"

"Jill, you just need to concentrate on you and Mike," Terry hit the button on the elevator.

"If the accident wasn't Mike's fault like everybody is telling me, then why won't you tell me anything? I can always go to the nurses' station and ask for today's newspaper."

Terry sighed as the elevator doors opened and the three of them stepped inside. "There were four people in the car. They were all college students at UCLA. The girl in the front passenger seat died instantly. One of the young men in the backseat died early this morning. The driver and the other passenger weren't that seriously injured."

"Was alcohol involved?" She asked as they walked her to her room.

"The driver was drunk," Chris confirmed. "She also had cocaine and marijuana in her blood."

"How old is she?"

"Nineteen," Terry said as Jill closed her eyes.

"What's going to happen to her?"

"Right now, she's in county lock-up. She's been charged with vehicular manslaughter and a bunch of other stuff."

"When were you planning on telling me?"

"Jill, we just wanted you to get better and focus on Mike. We weren't hiding anything from you."

"The doctor told me this morning that Mike's heart stopped right after the accident. Did you two know that?" She looked at them.

"No," Terry shook his head. "But, I knew it was bad when his father called a priest. You still don't remember anything?"

"No," she shook her head. "The last thing I remember before the accident is telling Mike . . . telling him that I love him."

She covered her face with her hands as she burst into tears. Chris looked helplessly at his partner, who reached over and pulled her into his arms. "He's going to be okay," Terry whispered as he held her. "Before you know it, we'll all be sitting in our usual booth at The Open House laughing about stupid stuff, just like always."

"I don't even remember if he had the chance to answer me back," she pulled away from Terry and wiped at her eyes. "He always answers me back, Terry."

"Even if he didn't, his love for you is something that is there. I see it every time he looks at you or every time he says your name when we're riding together. I saw it the very first time I ever saw the two of you together," he smiled as Jill smiled back in remembrance.

_Three years earlier_

Arriving at the party, Jill soon learned that Mike had a lot of friends. More than he'd ever had when he was at Ft. McClellan. She was having a hard time keeping their names straight. There was Kevin, Willie, and Terry. Mike explained that the fourth member of their little group, Jared, had to work that night. She then met Kevin's wife, Molly, and Jared's wife, Birgitta, along with Terry's girlfriend, Donna.

"Very nice," Terry complimented Mike, who couldn't keep his eyes off of his wife, as she chatted with the girls a few feet away. "Earth to Mike," Terry said as Mike finally looked his way. "She's very pretty."

"Oh, thank you," Mike smiled proudly.

"Can I ask why you waited this long to bring her out of hiding?"

"It's complicated," Mike answered vaguely as he nursed his drink.

Across the room, Jill kept looking over to find Mike's eyes meeting hers. She recognized the look in them all too well, which caused her to blush and look down toward the drink in her hand. "I noticed the ring on Mike's hand right after we met," Molly was saying, "but when I asked Kevin if he was married, Kevin said that he wasn't."

"Was that Kevin's opinion or did Mike tell him that?" Jill asked.

"I'm not sure."

When the party wrapped up, the men went to get the cars, leaving the women standing out in the chill air to chat and wait for them. Donna and Molly left after a few moments, leaving Jill alone with Birgitta, a beautiful young woman in her early 20's who had commented about how lucky they all were.

"Our husbands are police officers," Birgitta explained in her heavy Swedish accent. "When they walk out our front door every morning, there's always that chance that they won't be back in the evening. I always tell Jared how much I love him. If something happens, at least I will never regret not telling him that I love him."

Jill was about to say something further when Mike pulled up. She got into the car as he glanced at her expectantly. "Where to?" He asked.

"Did you deny being married?"

"Nobody ever asked if I was married," he said as he put the car in gear. "And, if anybody had, I wouldn't have denied it. I love you, baby. I've never been ashamed of you. All of this is just . . . circumstance."

"Do you have food in your apartment?" She asked.

"**Our **apartment," he corrected her. "Have you ever known me to have food at my place?"

"Only once," she remembered the first time she'd ever slept with him. He'd actually bought items to cook her breakfast the next morning. "Well, do you at least have coffee, water, anything to drink?"

"I might have a bottle of brandy," he glanced over at her as he drove. God, she was so damn beautiful! It took his breath away sometimes to look at her.

"Brandy sounds nice," she leaned back in the seat. "Show me **our **apartment."

**Our **apartment. To Jill, there had never been two sweeter sounding words in the world. "He never told anybody that he was married?" Chris looked at Jill and Terry in disbelief.

"Well, he told me, but not until right before we graduated. Willie found out after we'd graduated. We were all a bunch of dumb-ass men. It never occurred to any of us to notice a wedding ring."

"So, you forgave him just like that?" Chris looked at Jill as he snapped his fingers.

"Not quite," Terry and Jill both answered at the same time.

_Three years earlier_

"Thank you," Jill said as he handed her a glass of brandy.

"So, why did you leave Alabama?" He asked as he sat in his favorite chair, watching her as she sat on the couch.

"The base got too small, Mike," she studied the liquid in her glass before taking a sip, gasping as it burned its way down her throat. "I figured that you'd find me out here. However, I was expecting you a few months ago," she stared at him accusingly.

"I'm sorry, babe. I just wanted to get established and get us a place to live . . . "

"Why the police department, Mike?"

"Babe, I knew how much you hated the army. This is solid. I'll be home every night and I won't ever have to go away and leave you."

"I missed you, Mike," she looked at him with tears in her eyes. "But, I feel like you've blindsided me. You didn't give me a chance to make this decision with you."

"I'm so sorry," he got up and walked over to the couch, sitting down beside her.

Her breath caught in her throat as she felt his nearness. She knew that if he touched her, she'd once again find herself succumbing. It had been that way from the very first time he'd ever kissed her. But, she also knew how badly she wanted him. How badly she needed him. From the very first day she'd ever gone anywhere with him, he was her oxygen. The past 19 months without him had been horrible.

Mike tentatively reached for her hand as he moved closer to her. The moment their lips met, it was as if sparks had been reignited in a dying bonfire. She welcomed his tongue as it sought to seek out her own. She bit back a whimper when he left her mouth and moved her hair aside to kiss her neck, in the one particular spot that never failed to make her weak in the knees.

"Please stay," she heard him whisper against her neck. "I've missed you so much."

One part of her wanted to ask him why he'd waited more than six months to reunite with her if he missed her so much, but the other part of her wanted him desperately.

Mike pulled away so that he could look into her deep brown eyes. He wanted to take things slow, to savor being with her once more. But he wasn't sure he was going to be able to. At the moment he was already so hard that he ached. "You do know that we're going to have to talk eventually," she reminded him.

"I'll buy you breakfast in the morning and we'll talk as much as you want to," he pulled her close as his mouth once again reclaimed hers.

When they once again broke apart, Mike stood up and held his hand out to Jill. When she took it, he slowly pulled her to her feet and led her back to the bedroom. Her breath sped up as he slowly unbuttoned the blouse that she was wearing. After removing the blouse and letting it drop to the floor, he reached behind her and unhooked her bra. Jill let the straps fall down her arms before dropping it to the floor beside her discarded blouse. She groaned loudly when Mike covered her breasts with his hands, slowly kneading the sensitive flesh as she threw her head back.

"Mike," she sighed. "Mike, I really need to sit or I'm going to fall over."

He continued caressing her breasts as he helped her to sit on the edge of the bed. "Better?" He smiled at her as she nodded. "You feel so fucking good. And," he dropped to his knees in front of her and pressed his face into her skin so that he could inhale her warmth, "you smell even better."

"Yes," she hissed as he enclosed one of her nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue over it as it grew harder. Seconds later he repeated the whole process with her other nipple. He smiled as he felt her wrap her fingers into his hair as she pulled him even closer.

He pushed her back so that she was laying flat on her back staring up at the ceiling as he got up off of the floor and got on the bed beside her, propping himself up on one elbow so that he could look down at her. She turned onto her side as she moved closer to him, her lips moving over his in a slow kiss as she reached down and touched him through his slacks. "Oh, baby," he groaned as she ran the back of her hand slowly up and down his fly.

"I think we'd both be more comfortable if you got out of your clothes," she pulled his shirt out of the waistband of his slacks.

Instead of assisting her, Mike rolled onto his back and pillowed his head on his arms as he watched his wife. He loved watching her as she undressed him. She was always so focused on the task at hand. She'd been so shy for so long about their intimate relationship that it was wonderful to see that she could now admit that she wanted him. "Aren't you going to help?" She asked as he grinned at her playfully.

"Uh-uh," he reached up and once again cupped her breasts, rolling her nipples between his thumb and forefinger as she groaned in pleasure. "Just do me a favor and be careful unzipping me."

"Oh, I plan to," she removed his hands from her breasts before moving to the end of the bed to carefully unbutton and unzip the fly of his dress slacks. The moment his slacks came undone, his erection sprang free. "There. Isn't that more comfortable?"

"Less confining, yes. More comfortable? Hell, no! I'm in agony here," he complained.

"Oh, you poor baby," she teased as she wrapped her hand around his arousal and gently squeezed, smiling wickedly as he groaned and arched his back off of the bed.

"Is this payback? Because I swear I'll never leave you again!" The hand that had been on him just as quickly went away. "Jill? Baby?" He looked up to find her staring at him with her dark eyes full of sorrow. "Baby, I'm so sorry."

"I don't want to fight," she whispered as he cupped her face in his hands and gently kissed her. "I also don't want to tease. I've missed you so much, Michael. I know that you've missed me. I need for you to show me how much you've missed me."

"Okay," he stood up and shed the rest of his clothes before removing her shoes. He then slipped his fingers into the waistband of her slacks and pulled them down her legs, leaving her clad in her stockings and panties, which he quickly removed, as well. He swept his eyes admiringly over her naked body, very much liking what he was seeing. He climbed back up on the bed beside her as he drew her into his arms, letting his hand travel down her body as he kissed her, his tongue gently caressing hers.

Jill had missed this part of her life with Mike so much in the past 19 months. His touch and his kiss seemed to reawaken some part of her that felt as if it'd been dead while he was gone.

He draped her leg over his hip as he reached between her legs to touch her. She cried out against his mouth as he pressed his fingers against her, reveling in her warmth and her incredible wetness. "Baby, you feel so damn good," he continued touching her as she writhed against him.

"I need you, Michael. Now!" She rolled onto her back pulling him with her.

He spread her legs with his own before slowly sinking into her, absorbing her ecstatic cry with his mouth. She wrapped her arms around his back, loving the flex of his muscles under her hands. She moved her hips against him as he slowly thrust into her depths. She hooked her legs over his calves, as she tried to urge him to go faster. She was so close, but the slow pace just wasn't cutting it. "Mike, faster," she panted. "Please. I'm so close."

Mike had wanted to take things slow to avoid exploding in ecstasy the moment he entered her. But, he abided by her wishes and increased the tempo of his thrusts as her fervent cries increased in volume and intensity. He felt her muscles tighten around him as she repeatedly screamed out his name. It was only seconds later when he reached his peak, as well, pumping into her one last time as he climaxed.

"I've been thinking about this moment for over a year," she sighed happily as Mike slowly rolled off of her.

"So, did it measure up to your imagination?" He asked as he tried to slow his breathing down.

"No," she looked at him as he frowned. "It was better."

Judging by the secretive smile on her face, Terry could pretty much guess what Jill was thinking about. His bedroom wall, which he shared with Mike and Jill's apartment, had taken a beating over the years thanks to his friends' passion for each other. "What time is it?" She asked as she looked at her two friends.

"Almost one o'clock," Chris said as he looked at his watch.

"I'm going back up to sit with Mike," she said as she got up and left the room.

"Wow," Chris rubbed his face as they watched her leave the room. "She's going to wear herself out."

"Not if we have anything to say about it. I have to make amends," Terry looked at his friend.

"Amends for what?"

"The last time Mike asked me to look after Jill; she almost got herself killed because Willie and I weren't paying attention. I have to do a better job this time."

"We'll take care of her together," Chris said as Terry nodded.


	4. Chapter 4

**There are a few things going on in this chapter. Jill has a run-in with her father-in-law regarding Mike's condition; Jill and Chris make an attempt to get to know each other better.**

**Again, I don't own 'The Rookies' and never will. **

**Chapter 4**

Jonathan Danko was staring into the window of the ICU cubicle where his younger son was lying in a coma. There was no movement from the bed, just as there hadn't been any movement four days before when one of his son's bosses had called him and told him about the accident. A nurse had told him earlier that there was a slight improvement in Michael's condition, but Mr. Danko didn't see it.

He thought over the events of Michael's life. Michael had always been an extremely active boy. When he was seven years old, his father had made the decision to send him to military school in Virginia. One part of Michael had never forgiven his father for sending him away. Mr. Danko had tried to explain to Michael that he had done it for his own good. He wanted him to get the best education that he could. He wanted him to have the opportunity to attend one of the military academies one day, if he chose. Instead, after Michael had graduated, he had immediately enlisted in the Army.

It was during his last tour of duty, that he had met Jill. Mr. Danko had never thought much of Jill. She had no education. Her family life was questionable, at best. But, the more he had talked against Jill, the more Michael had dug his heels in. He had even gone so far as to tell his father that if he'd declared war on Jill, then he'd also declared war on him.

Mr. Danko's reverie was broken by a voice next to him. He turned to find Jill standing there. She had several bruises on her face, obviously caused by the accident. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you," he said as he looked at her.

"I said that you can go in and sit by his bedside if you want to," she repeated.

"No," he shook his head. "Can you answer a question for me, though?"

"Of course."

"They were saying something about the ventilator and the number of breaths he's taking. It was very confusing. You're a nurse. I was hoping that you could explain it to me."

"The ventilator has settings on it that determine how many times it breathes for the patient every minute. They've been trying to turn the settings down, so that it forces Mike to take more breaths on his own. So far, it hasn't been very successful. But, the doctor said that's because Mike's lungs were seriously bruised in the accident when his chest his the steering wheel. They've been trying several times a day to turn the settings down," she explained as he nodded.

"The nurse told me that they were able to turn the settings down this morning. That's good news, isn't it?" He asked hopefully.

"Yes, that's very good news. He moved his hand yesterday, but everybody keeps telling me that it was probably involuntary. I don't know about you, but I don't believe that."

"Well, they're medical personnel. I'm sure that they know best about why he might do the things that he does," he looked at her condescendingly as she looked away.

"I think that I'm going to go sit with him," she finally said as she started to go into the cubicle.

"I heard on the radio that the other boy died," he said as she turned around.

"Yeah, I heard that, too," she said as she turned back around.

The first thing that Jill noticed, besides the fact that the ventilator had been turned down, was that Mike's color seemed better. He didn't look as pale as he had the past two days. She hoped that meant he was going to wake up. She looked out of the glass partition as his father continued standing there, staring at the two of them. Finally, after about five minutes, he turned and left. Jill breathed a sigh of relief after his departure. "Mike, your father was here. He didn't want to come in. Hospitals make some people nervous," she said as she stroked his hand. "Terry's going to take me home later today."

In his trapped mind, Mike was glad that she was going home. He was also glad that his father had come up here, although he was upset that he hadn't bothered to come and sit with him. Some things never changed.

Terry and Chris spent their morning and part of their afternoon talking to the accident witnesses. After talking to them, they stopped to get something to eat. "Did you notice that everybody we talked to about the accident said almost the same thing?" Chris asked as he picked up his hamburger.

"Yeah, that Isabelle's car went airborne and that Mike swerved to take most of the impact," Terry looked at his partner.

"You do know that she's going to go to court and probably get nothing more than a slap on the wrist," Chris said in disgust.

"I know," Terry agreed with him, 'but maybe one day prosecutors and judges will realize that killing someone while driving under the influence is murder just as surely as taking a gun and shooting the other person."

"I wonder how that girl feels knowing that she's killed two people," Chris wondered out loud.

"I don't know," Terry said.

"So, are you giving Jill a ride home tonight?" Chris asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah, I told her that I would pick her up when I get off duty. I'll give you a hint of how you might open the door," Terry looked at his partner, who nodded in encouragement. "Stop by Baskin Robbins and buy Jill a Very Berry Strawberry Milkshake. It has to be that flavor."

"A strawberry milkshake will make her my new best friend?" Chris asked skeptically as he stared at his partner.

"No, but it won't hurt," Terry grinned.

"So, who gave you that bit of information?"

"Mike did. He said strawberry milkshakes have gotten him out of all kinds of situations. Come on, we need to get back on duty," Terry said as he crumpled his trash as his partner followed suit.

Sitting at Mike's bedside, Jill thought of all of the times during their courtship and after they were married when she'd awakened to find him just watching her, his eyes so full of love and awe for her, as if he couldn't quite believe that she was in his bed.

She was the one who should've felt that way. She still sometimes asked him why he'd picked her out of all of the girls that he could've met and married. She had brought so much baggage into their marriage. She still remembered when her screaming in the night was a weekly occurrence.

"_Come back to bed," he'd coaxed her the first time she'd ever woke him up from a sound sleep with one of her nightmares about Cleve and the awful things he'd done to her._

"_You go back to bed," she'd said as she stood in the open doorway of her tiny trailer. "I never go back to sleep after them."_

"_I'm not going to bed without you," he'd taken her hand, pulling her toward him. "Let's go back to bed. I'm betting that I can make you forget all about those awful dreams."_

She smiled as she remembered that first night. He often could make her forget about those awful dreams, as he'd referred to them. Either by holding her tight, or by whispering soothing words. When that failed, he would make her forget by sweeping her away in a wave of passion that never failed to leave her breathless and aching for him.

"How long have you been in here?" She turned to find Lt. Ryker standing behind her.

"I don't know. I was just thinking," she smiled as she followed him out of the small room.

"I understand that he's taking breaths on his own," Ryker said.

"Yeah, finally. They're hoping that he'll regain consciousness soon."

"Webster said that he's taking you home tonight."

"Yeah," her face fell.

"What is it?"

"Eddie, I don't feel right leaving him," she said as her eyes brimmed with tears. "I almost wish that I'd gotten hurt worse so that I could stay with him."

"Sweetie, if you'd been hurt worse, and Mike knew that, he'd never forgive himself. Look how long it took for him to forgive himself after you lost the baby."

"I still don't think he's forgiven himself for that. I don't want to leave him," she sobbed as he drew her close.

"I know, but I have a feeling that he's going to be back with you before you know it," he rubbed her back.

"His father was here, but he still won't go in and sit with him. And, I don't know where his mother's been."

"I have an idea," Eddie pulled away from her. "Why don't I send Trap to stay with you until Mike comes home?"

"Eddie, that's very sweet, but you don't have to do that. I'm sure that Trap has enough work to do at the cottage."

"Nonsense," he scoffed. "I'll call him this evening and I don't want to hear another word about it."

"Eddie, Terry was telling me that two kids died in the accident. He said that the girl who was driving was drunk and high. What's going to happen to her?"

"I don't know," he told her honestly. "She's been charged with two counts of vehicular manslaughter, but she could easily walk."

"That could've just as easily been me," she remembered as Eddie looked at her. "Terry told me that she's 19. I was 19 when I met Mike, and I was that fucked up."

"It's too bad that she didn't meet her own Mike to save her."

"Is that what Mike tells you? That he saved me?"

"Every single time I ask him," he smiled as Jill couldn't help but smile back. "I've gotta get back to the station. I'll call you for updates on Mike, okay?"

"You'd better," she said as he kissed her cheek.

She watched as her husband's boss and mentor got on the elevator. She remembered how badly he'd intimidated her when she'd first met him. It wasn't until a late night in this very hospital that she'd been able to crack that tough veneer that he was hiding behind.

The police were trying to find a young girl who'd been kidnapped and held for ransom. Mike and the guys had complained to Jill that the lieutenant didn't appear to be well. He was grumpier than usual and had suffered several dizzy spells. These symptoms landed him in the hospital with a middle ear infection.

While trying to escape the hospital in the wee hours of the morning, he'd run into a very stubborn Jill, who refused to let him leave. He begged her for a few minutes to explain why it was imperative that he leave.

That was when she learned of his wife Mary Kate. The story still brought tears to her eyes when she remembered it. She died shortly after giving birth to their baby daughter. A daughter that Eddie had given up for adoption. A baby that he suspected to be the girl that was missing.

Jill remembered sobbing in Mike's arms later that night after relaying the story to him. That was when she made her mind up that if and when she had a daughter, her name would be Mary Kate. It was the least that she could do to honor this man who'd been more like a father to her than her own father had ever been.

Terry picked Jill up after he'd gotten off duty and took her home. Looking at her as he drove toward the apartment, he could tell that the last place she wanted to be was in her apartment without Mike. "You know, if the place is too quiet for you, you're welcome to stay at my place. You can sleep in Willie's old room."

"Thanks, but I want to sleep in our bed. Even if Mike isn't there. I'm sure that you're enjoying the peace and quiet without the headboard hitting the wall," she bit back a shy smile as she thought of Terry's constant complaint.

"I think I'm just jealous. I always assumed that as a single guy, I'd be the one having all of the sex. When I met your husband, I had no idea that he was a sex maniac. He appeared way too straight-laced to me."

Jill blushed as Terry pulled into his parking space. She remembered the first time she ever slept with Mike when he told her that a former girlfriend had told him that he had roamin' hands and rushin' fingers. "I thought he looked that way, too," she admitted as he helped her out of the tiny sports car. "I saw Eddie today. He said he was going to ask Trap to stay with me until Mike comes home."

"That's not a bad idea," Terry agreed as they approached the apartment. "If you need anything, give me a call. I don't care what time it is."

"Okay," she unlocked the door and walked inside as Terry walked to his own apartment next door. "Thanks, Terry."

"You're welcome. Get some rest."

Jill stood against the front door after she'd closed and locked it. It was far too quiet without Mike's presence. Maybe having Trap stay was for the best, after all. She walked over and looked at the pictures that were displayed on the shelf. She lightly brushed her fingers over Mike's academy picture and the photo of the two of them as a couple. There were also a couple of pictures that had been taken at Lt. Ryker's lake house, as well as her favorite picture that had been taken at Catalina Island.

Some of her fondest memories of her life after reuniting with Mike were of Catalina Island. It was Mike's favorite place, and it had soon become her favorite, too. The last time they'd gone had been several months ago after the incident with Cleve. He'd taken her there hoping to erase the memories of those last few hours.

"_How did you find me?" She'd asked as he held her tightly in his arms. "How did you know?"_

"_I'll explain everything when we get home," he promised as he held her shaking body close to his._

She walked back to the bedroom to change into her gown and robe. Her body still sported several yellowing bruises from the accident, most prominently on her ribs and abdomen, caused by the seatbelt cutting into her.

She had just put the tea kettle on to boil when the doorbell rang. She looked through the peephole, smiling when she saw Chris standing there with a familiar paper bag in his hand. "I see that Terry told you my weakness," she smiled when she opened the door.

"I thought most women's weakness was chocolate," he walked into the apartment as Jill closed the door behind them.

"Oh, I also like chocolate. Mike brings me strawberry shakes when he's in trouble; Terry brings them to me because he knows that I like them. What's your excuse?" She asked as he handed her the bag.

"Jill, I know I'm not Willie," he said as he took a seat on one of the bar stools. "And, Terry's told me that he's not even sure that Mike knows everything. But, I don't know anything. Can't you let me in just a little?"

"You know what they say about curiosity?"

"I know. Terry did say that we have to take better care of you than he did the last time. He made it sound like he dropped the ball."

"Mike was so pissed. I never realized just how mad he was. He still doesn't know that I heard them arguing. I mean, it's not like I've never heard them disagree before. They're both stubborn and they're both opinionated," she said as Chris nodded in agreement. "But, this concerned me."

"What happened?"

"Mike had gone out of town. He'd asked the guys to keep an eye on me in case I needed anything. Throw in a psychotic ex and let's just say that things almost ended in disaster."

"You didn't tell Willie and Terry that you were in trouble?"

"I didn't know. Everything seemed okay, although looking back on it, I should've seen the red flags that were popping up all over the place. I don't want to go into all of the details, but let's just say that Mike and Lt. Ryker showed up in the nick of time."

"And, Mike blamed the guys?"

"For some reason, he blamed Terry far more than he blamed Willie. But, Terry was angry, too. He felt that Mike and I hadn't been completely honest with them."

_Eleven months earlier_

_Mike glanced down at Jill, who was finally restlessly sleeping beside him. He closed his eyes against the images that continued to haunt him. Cleve Andrews with one hand clasped firmly on Jill's elbow, before he shoved her forward and pointed his gun at the back of her head._

_He'd acted on pure instinct and animal rage. But, Lt. Ryker had moved even faster. He shot and killed Andrews before he had a chance to shoot Mike. As he held Jill in his arms seconds later, he couldn't help but wonder how it had ended like this. He'd asked the guys to keep an eye on her. He couldn't believe that his two best friends had let him and Jill down like that._

_After looking down on her once more, he got up from the bed and carefully covered her with the bedspread before leaving the room and pulling the door partially closed behind him. Walking to the kitchen sink, he reached up to the cabinet above and took down the bottle of Scotch. He'd just poured a glass when the doorbell rang. Setting the bottle down, he walked over and opened the door to find Terry standing there. "Can we talk?" He asked as Mike motioned him inside._

"_Keep it down. Jill's asleep," Mike nodded toward the bedroom._

"_In that case, it might be better if we go outside," Terry pointed toward the back patio._

_Jill was wakened out of a sound sleep by loud voices raised in anger. ". . . asked you to do one thing and the two of you couldn't even do that right!" She heard Mike saying._

"_Why didn't you warn us of what we could possibly be walking into, Mike?" She heard Terry shouting back._

_Why were they fighting? What happened with Cleve wasn't their fault. It was hers for forgetting how he could be when she was away from him for a long period of time. Cleve was the one who hadn't wanted to meet her friends. Jill had tried on several occasions, but he'd always refused. _

_What had Mike asked them to do? "I wouldn't even trust the two of you to watch my damn dog!" She heard Mike saying._

"_For your information, Michael, Jill's the one who kept us away from him, not the other way around! We tried to get her to introduce us and she refused! So, maybe you should be taking your anger out on her!"_

"_Why in the hell are you so pissed off? What happened after I walked Jill away from Andrews' body?"_

"_We got in trouble for dropping our guns! Mike, he was going to shoot her if we didn't drop our guns!"_

"_He was going to shoot her, anyway!" Mike roared back. "Why do you think I jumped on him like I did? He shoved her ahead of him and was aiming the gun at her. He was going to shoot her and then he was probably going to shoot the two of you."_

"Was it your fault for not introducing him?" Chris asked.

"I tried," she took a sip of her milkshake. "Every time I suggested it, he'd make an excuse for why he didn't want to meet them. All of the excuses sounded good at the time."

"So, you never told Mike that you heard him and Terry that night?"

"I didn't see any reason to. I knew they'd work it out. That's what friends do."

"Did he ever tell you that you almost got shot?"

"No, we haven't talked much about what happened that night. But, I was such a wreck. He ended up taking me to Catalina for a few days," she smiled at the memory.

"He loves Catalina," Chris smiled. "He told me once that he loves taking you there."

"We have a particular bed and breakfast that we stay at. We can't go as often as we'd like for weekend stays, because it's too expensive. But, we go up there for the day whenever we can," she smiled as the phone rang. "It's probably Terry wanting to know if you delivered your milkshake." She reached over and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Jill, it's Dr. Hill," the doctor's voice came over the line as Jill clutched the receiver. "Mike's awake. He's asking for you."

"I'll be there in 15 minutes," Jill said as she hung up the phone and looked at Chris. "That was the hospital. Mike's awake and asking for me."

"Come on, I'll take you," he said as he got up. "I'll call Terry from the hospital."


	5. Chapter 5

The Hero Always Comes in Riding a White Horse

**Mike struggles to recover as he and Jill remember different times during their lives together. **

**Again, I don't own 'The Rookies' and never will.**

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: **This story is going to make references to the episodes 'Dirge for Sunday' written by Jaron Summers and William Blinn and 'Lots of Trees and a Running Stream' written by Don Balluck.

Chapter 5

Nobody was more shocked to see Mike regain consciousness than Mike himself. The doctor had been shining a penlight in his eyes when his eyes suddenly flickered opened. But, as soon as he tried to speak, he panicked. He reached up his good hand to pull on the tube as the doctor quickly stopped him. "Officer Danko, relax and I'll remove that tube. Hold on for just one moment."

As he lay there, he wondered where Jill was. He couldn't remember the last time he'd actually heard her voice. Time had had no meaning to it. He didn't know if he'd been unconscious for two days or 10. He heard footsteps approaching as the doctor re-entered the room, accompanied by a nurse who was carrying a tray. "Okay, Officer Danko, we're going to remove that ventilator tube. When I count to three, I want you to blow out like you're blowing out your birthday candles. Are you ready?" He asked as Mike eagerly nodded his head. "Okay, one . . . two . . . three!" On three, Mike gasped as the doctor yanked the tubing from his throat, causing him to choke and gasp. "Nurse, give him some water, please."

The nurse placed a straw in a cup of water and offered it to Mike, who drank it gratefully, the water soothing on his sore throat. "Your throat's going to be raw and sore for a few days, so try to limit your talking," the doctor told him as Mike nodded.

"Jill?" He finally managed to rasp as the nurse placed his water on a tray table.

"I called her. She'll be here in a few minutes. But, she's still recovering, too, so I don't want her up here overdoing it."

"But, she's okay?" He looked at the doctor.

"She's banged up, but she's okay. Get some rest before she gets here."

Oxygen prongs replaced the ventilator, but it felt good not to have that tube down his throat. The feeling of suffocation had eased now. He closed his eyes as he waited for Jill to arrive. It seemed only moments later when he heard her familiar footsteps at his bedside. He opened his eyes and smiled at the sight of her standing at his side, her brown eyes huge. "Baby," he whispered as she smiled. "Oh, baby."

"Hi, sweetheart," she bent down and gently kissed his chapped lips. "How do you feel?"

"Honestly? Awful," he admitted as he squeezed her fingers. "How long have I been here?"

"Four days. I've been so worried about you."

"Tell me about the other car," he whispered as she looked away from him. "Jill? Talk to me, baby."

"Mike, I don't remember anything about the accident itself. I remember . . . I remember telling you that I loved you and . . . that's it. When I woke up, the paramedics were already there. I called out to you . . . and you didn't answer me! I reached for you and there . . . was blood all over my hand. I was so scared, Mike! I thought that you were dead!"

"Oh, baby," he whispered hoarsely as he reached out to brush tears from her face.

"The highway patrol is upset because I can't tell them what happened. Do you remember anything?"

"Baby, I remember everything. I had to protect you."

"What're you talking about?" She asked as his eyes started to close. "It's okay, sweetheart. Get some rest."

"Jill, please stay until I go to sleep. I'm afraid that I won't wake up again."

"You're going to be okay," she smoothed her hand over his forehead. "Go to sleep."

When she stepped out of the room, the two guys as well as Lt. Ryker were standing there. She took a deep breath as she faced their anxious eyes. "How is he?" Terry asked.

"He didn't want me to leave him. I'm not used to seeing that side of him."

"He's like that every time he's away from you, you've just never noticed it," Terry grinned. "I'm sure he's relieved that you're okay. He'll probably ease up some in a few days."

"I hope so. The last time he was like that was after . . . " she stopped short before she said anything further. "Never mind," she said as she turned and walked away.

"What was that all about?" Chris asked his partner.

"I'm not sure. I'll be right back," he walked to the waiting room where he found Jill staring out of the window. "Are you okay?"

"He's the one who's always fixed everything, Terry. I'm not comfortable in that role. I never have been."

"When you lost the baby," he began as she stared at him, "he came home very upset one night. When Willie and I went over to the apartment, he told us that the loss of the baby was the one thing that he couldn't fix. He said that he'd been able to fix everything else about you that had been broken. He wanted so badly to fix that, too."

"I was such a wreck when I met him," she remembered. "Terry, I really want to tell you, but you have to understand that it was hard for me to even tell Mike."

"I do know some of it," he said as she stared at him in shock. "Mike didn't tell me," he quickly added. "I was just able to guess by putting two and two together."

"Terry, I'm sorry that I didn't tell you about him. When I left him, he was abusive, but he wasn't psychotic. If I'd known that he was . . . that way, I wouldn't have let Mike leave town."

"Willie and I should've been more insistent about meeting him. The morning that he left, Mike was nervous about leaving. But, he didn't say why he was concerned."

"I'm so sorry, Terry," she said once again.

"How long were you with him?"

"Five years," she said in a quiet voice.

"That's a long time to live in hell."

"You have no idea."

She was surprised when Terry walked over and kissed her on the forehead. "If you ever want to talk about any of that period, you know where to find me. But, for right now, I'm going to leave you with your thoughts."

"Thanks, Terry," she smiled as he turned and left the room.

She was standing there staring out at the darkened parking lot when she heard footsteps behind her. "So, Mike's always been the fixer, huh?" She heard Chris ask.

"Not always. I was the fixer once," she said mysteriously as her mind went back to the incident that made her decide that she was going to stay with Mike for the long haul.

_Two and a half years earlier_

_It had been Jill's stubbornness that forced Lt. Ryker to let her see Mr. Saul. She remembered walking into that jail with legs that barely held her up, they were shaking so badly. Afterwards, as Terry drove her back to the precinct, she couldn't even remember what she'd said to the bitter old man. "Terry, what's a dead man's switch?" She asked as she looked out of the window of his car. "I overheard one of those men saying that the belt that Mike's wearing is activated by a dead man's switch."_

"_The detonator . . . the guy has wired it so if the police try anything to him, forcing him to let go of it, it'll go off."_

"_Thank you for being honest with me," she looked at him, her tear-stained face tearing at Terry's heart. _

"_I'll always be honest with you, Jill."_

"_I don't think Lt. Ryker knows how to deal with me. I guess he thinks that if he shuts me in his office, he can ignore that I exist."_

"_He's trying as hard as anybody to get Mike back. It's just . . . political bullshit. If the mayor's office allows us to negotiate with Fenner, then every nutcase that comes around will want something."_

"_Sometimes Mike talks about moving up the chain of command. If this is what upper management is like in the police department, they can keep it."_

"Terry told me about Mike and his experience with the C-4," Chris shook his head. "He told me how he took you to talk to that old man. He also told me that he refused to help Mike. So, what changed his mind?"

"I don't know. He never told me."

_Two years earlier_

_Jill was rapidly pacing back and forth in the muster room as she waited for some kind of word on whether the rescue had gone well. She saw uniformed officers walking back and forth through the windows, but they were busy doing their own work. They weren't involved in the drama of rescuing Mike. _

_Suddenly she heard several voices all talking at once. She looked toward the door as it burst open and Mike entered the room. She raced into his arms as he lifted her off of the floor, holding her more tightly than he'd ever held her in his life. She clung to his neck before he pulled back to kiss her. "Oh, baby," he sighed as he kissed her over and over. "I heard that you also had quite the day."_

"_I don't want to talk about that. I just want to look at you," she touched his face as he smiled at her, still holding onto her as if he was never going to let her go. "Are you okay?"_

"_I am now," he kissed her once again. "I am now."_

"I think I'm going to go back in and check on Mike," she said.

"You're going to wear yourself out," he warned.

"Probably," she agreed as she left him.

Mike's sleep was restless until she sat down and took his hand in hers. After that, he seemed to relax and fall into a deeper sleep. Glancing down at his hand in hers reminded her of all of the times they'd held hands in the past. The first time she'd ever placed her hand in his she knew that Mike would never let anything happen to her.

She shook her head to free herself from her thoughts and was surprised to find Mike's deep blue-green eyes burning into hers. "What're you thinking about?" He asked.

"You," she smiled. "You're all I ever think about."

"I was dreaming," he smiled as he stroked her fingers.

"Was it a good dream?" She asked.

"Yeah, it was a great dream," he smiled at her suggestively.

"Michael, you have a hip to toe cast on your leg and are connected to wires and tubes. Is that seriously all that you think about?" She asked, blushing furiously.

"Pretty much," he admitted. "Seriously though, I want you to do me a huge favor."

"What's that?"

"I want you to go home and get some decent sleep. I'm about to ask for a shot, so I should be good until morning. Will you do that?"

"Yeah, I'll do that," she agreed. "When are you going to talk to the highway patrol?"

"I don't know. I'll see how I feel tomorrow. Go home, take a hot bubble bath and go to sleep."

"Okay," she stood up and kissed him. "I love you, Mike."

"I love you too, baby. I'll see you in the morning."

As his eyes closed, he remembered back to the terrifying night almost a year before when he wasn't sure he was going to see Jill alive again.

_Eleven months earlier_

"_Mike, how did you get here so fast? How did you know where I was? Do you know what was wrong with him? He wasn't crazy before. He was just abusive," Jill kept pelting questions as they sat on the front porch of the house that Cleve Andrews had bought. _

"_I'll explain everything when we get home. I promise," he pulled her close as she continued to shake badly._

_Lt. Ryker was still in the woods with Willie and Terry awaiting the arrival of the medical examiner so that he could pronounce Cleve dead. Mike had asked permission to remove Jill from the scene and Ryker had told him to go ahead._

"_Mike, I want to go home," she begged as the medical examiner and his assistant came out of the woods wheeling a gurney with Cleve's body._

"_We will soon," he held her as Ryker and his two friends followed behind the M.E. _

_Terry and Willie barely looked at Jill and Mike as they got into their squad car and quickly drove off. "Danko, let's get you two home," Ryker said as Mike stood up and led Jill to Ryker's squad car._

"Officer Danko?" Mike groaned as he opened his eyes to find a man wearing a California Highway Patrol uniform standing beside Lt. Ryker. "I'm Capt. Cragen with The CHP. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about the accident."

"I just had a shot," Mike complained.

"I realize that, and I promise that I won't stay very long. Do you remember any details?"

"Are you kidding? I remember **every **detail."

"When did you first notice that there was a problem with the Hodges' girl's car?"

"Hodges? As in Hodges Industries?" Mike looked at Lt. Ryker.

"She's the CEO's daughter," Ryker confirmed.

"Jesus," Mike breathed. "Uh, Jill and I were talking. I glanced over and noticed that the car in the opposite lane was driving erratically. I even said something to Jill about it, but the next thing I knew, the car was airborne."

"What did you do?" Cragen asked.

"I jerked the wheel as hard as I could to the right. I was afraid that the car was going to land on top of us. I remember hearing voices and I smelled something burning. But, I couldn't breathe. I remember Jill sounded so scared," his voice choked up as he remembered. "But, I was just glad that I could hear her. At least this time I was able to hear her."

His eyes drifted closed as Ryker motioned for the captain to leave the room. "What did he mean about this time he could hear her? They've been in a serious car accident before?"

"No," Ryker shook his head. "Two years ago Mrs. Danko was shot and seriously wounded in a restaurant shooting. He felt it was his fault because he didn't protect her."

"So, by jerking the car, he felt that he was protecting her," Cragen guessed as Ryker nodded.

"Even if it meant giving up his life for hers. That's the kind of man that he is."

Back in his room, Mike's thoughts once again drifted back to Jill.

_Eleven months earlier_

_After the argument with Terry, Mike locked up the apartment and made his way back to their bedroom. Jill opened her eyes when Mike turned on the bathroom light. "Are you coming to bed?" He looked at her from the bathroom door._

"_Yeah, as soon as I take a shower. Are you okay? Do you need anything?"_

"_Just you," she smiled. _

"_Give me 10 minutes and you've got me," he gave her a bright smile before going into the bathroom and closing the door._

_He came out of the bathroom almost 15 minutes later, feeling much cleaner than he'd felt just hours before. Hours earlier he'd felt as if his whole body was swimming in nervous sweat as he took that long bus ride back toward Santa Costa. His thoughts kept going to a dark place. A place that no longer had Jill in it. _

_As he got into bed, he was dismayed to see that Jill was crying. "Baby, what's wrong? Why are you crying? Are you sure that Cleve didn't hurt you?" He pulled her into his arms as her whole body shook with sobs._

"_I don't want you to be mad at me, Mike."_

"_Baby, I'm not mad," he looked at her in confusion. "I was worried about you. I was terrified that we weren't going to find you in time. But, I'm not mad."_

"_I shouldn't have insisted that you go to that seminar. I played right into his hands, Mike. Just like I did when I was 14."_

"_I'm never leaving you alone again," he vowed as he held her to him as tightly as he could._

Back at the apartment, Jill took a hot bubble bath and donned one of Mike's t-shirts and a pair of panties before climbing into bed. The shirt smelled like Mike, a comforting smell to Jill. She turned his pillow length-wise and held it close to her body as she imagined that it was him holding her as he always did now. Her nights of sleeping on the far side of the bed had ended when she'd come home from the hospital following the awful restaurant shooting. Every night since then had been spent wrapped up in each other's arms. She couldn't wait until he was back home so that he could once again hold her in his arms and make her feel loved and protected. She thought back to the night he'd brought her home after rescuing her from Cleve.

_After they'd come home from the house in the country where Cleve had taken her, Mike had tried to talk to her. But, she had been so exhausted and still in so much shock, that he'd given up. The subject of that night hadn't come up for another couple of days. "Terry and I got into an argument the night that Cleve was killed," he told her one morning. "You know that he and Willie got into trouble for dropping their guns?" _

"_Willie told me," she answered in a small voice. _

"_He wanted to know why I didn't tell him and Willie that Cleve was dangerous. I didn't know how to explain that without divulging any of your past. Why didn't you introduce Cleve to them?" He looked at her as she poured a glass of orange juice. _

"_I tried," she took a drink, "but he kept coming up with excuses why he didn't want to meet my friends. I thought that he was sick, Mike. That's why I never pushed the issue." _

"_The whole time that I was gone, I just had a gut feeling that I shouldn't have left." _

"_Why did you ask Willie and Terry to look after me like I was a child?" She looked at him with huge brown eyes. "Mike, I'm not a child. I took care of myself for five years while I was with him." _

"_And, look how you ended up." _

"_That isn't fair. You weren't there! I told you this once before. I did what I had to do to survive! If I could've found a way out of that house, I would've taken it! And, if I had known what he was up to, I would've gone to Willie and Terry myself!" _

_She slammed her glass down on the counter and stormed out of the room, slamming their bedroom door behind her. He sighed as he got up and went to their room. She was lying on her side, facing away from him. He lay down on the bed and slipped an arm around her. She stiffened up, but at least she didn't pull away from him. "I'm sorry," he whispered against her neck as he held her. "I can't begin to understand what you went through while you were with him. But, you're right. You did what you had to do. I didn't ask the guys to look out for you because I thought you couldn't take care of yourself. I know that you're more than capable of doing just that. I asked them because I was worried about you. I love you very much and I was afraid of him hurting you like he used to. I'm sorry if I've upset you." _

"_There were red flags," she whispered as he strained to hear her. "There were red flags all over the place, but I chose not to see them." _

"_You didn't see them because he didn't want you to see them. It's like what Lt. Ryker told me when we were driving out there. If hindsight was 20/20, we'd all be wiser men. Like I said, I didn't want to go . . . " _

"_I wanted you to go," she said as she turned over. "And, not because I planned on seeing Cleve behind your back. You're so smart," she kissed him to empathize her point. "I feel that you should take every opportunity that you're given. But, if you had stayed in town, I wouldn't have seen Cleve." _

"_If I had stayed in town, I wouldn't have stopped you from seeing him, but I wouldn't have liked it," he pulled her closer to him. "Have I told you lately how much I love you?" _

"_Oh, not in the last hour or so," she teased as he kissed her again, more hungrily this time. _

"_I love you, Mrs. Danko." _

Her last thought before drifting off to sleep was of how much she loved him. She had to get him better and back home with her so that she could show him how much.


	6. Chapter 6

The Hero Always Comes In Riding A White Horse

**DISCLAIMERS: I don't own 'The Rookies' and never will.**

**Trap arrives to stay with Jill as Mike tries to come to terms with the aftermath of the fatal accident. Jill also confides to Chris and Trap about the worst night of her life. Mike remembers his first Christmas season with Jill.**

**This story will make references to the Season 2 story 'A Matter of Justice.'**

**Chapter 6**

When Jill woke up the next morning, she felt like she had a massive hangover, even though she hadn't been drinking. She was so exhausted that every bone and muscle in her body was screaming with pain. After calling the hospital to check on Mike's condition, she got up and took a hot shower. Feeling a little better afterwards, she went and put on a pot of coffee. She was contemplating making breakfast when the doorbell rang. Looking through the peephole, she was surprised to find Trap standing there. "It's nice that you're so concerned about me," she said when she opened the door.

"Hey, I've been busy. Ryker suggested that I stay with you for a few days until Mike gets better. I even brought breakfast," he smiled as he held out a bag of doughnuts.

"That isn't breakfast unless you're Terry or Chris," she said as she closed the door.

"What about Mike? He's a cop, too," Trap grinned as he put the bag on the counter.

"Mike doesn't like doughnuts. I was going to make a real breakfast. Would you like some or are you going to stick with your cop food?" She smiled as she went to the refrigerator.

"Is there a law that says that I can't eat both?" He asked as he sat down on a barstool.

"Now you sound like Mike."

"This is like old times. You and me, together again."

"I can live without those old times," she said as she took bacon and eggs out of the refrigerator.

"Jill?" He called out her name as she looked at him. "I wouldn't have come, but the old man was insistent on it. He said that Terry and Chris have to work, so you should have someone with you."

"Why do all of you think that I can't take care of myself?"

"I never said that you can't take care of yourself. Who's saying that you can't?"

"After Cleve got killed, I found out that Mike had asked Terry and Willie to look out for me. It was supposed to be in case I needed anything, but it didn't come out that way. It made me feel like I was incompetent at best, and a child, at worst. I was mad about it for a long time," she said as she cracked eggs into a bowl and began scrambling them.

"Mike was just worried about you, and it turns out that he was right to be."

"I can't believe that you're taking his side," she poured the eggs into a skillet and began stirring them. "I don't think you've taken Mike's side about anything since 1970."

"I don't hate Mike. I've never hated him. I didn't like what he did when he went to Vietnam the last time. And, yes, I was mad that you forgave him far too easily. But, when I see the two of you together, I can tell that he loves you. And, I know that you love him," he looked at her as she smiled. "He wasn't right to leave you alone knowing what Cleve was. But, you have to admire his timing. Talk about the hero riding in at the last minute."

"Let's eat breakfast, and you can take me up to the hospital to see him. He's asking a lot of questions about the accident."

"What have you told him?"

"I don't remember anything," she admitted. "I think the guy from the highway patrol was going to try to ask him a few questions last night."

He looked up as she placed a plate of bacon and eggs in front of him. "Do you have Tabasco sauce?" He asked as she pointed to the refrigerator. "Thanks."

The two of them were eating breakfast when the doorbell rang. "That's probably Terry and Chris," she said as she got up and went to the door. "They've been giving me rides to the hospital."

"Well, now that I'm here, you can take my truck," Trap offered,

She opened the door to let Terry and Chris into the apartment. "Good morning," she kissed each of them before closing the door. "You're just in time for breakfast."

"I see that you have company," Chris said as he looked at Trap.

"We haven't met," Trap said as he got to his feet. "I'm Trap Applegate. I'm an old friend of Jill's."

"Chris Owens," Chris shook the other man's hand. "Did you say Trap?"

"It's a nickname," Trap explained.

"Trap's going to be staying with me until Mike gets better. Ryker's orders," Jill looked at her friends in annoyance.

"Have you talked to Mike this morning?" Terry asked as she handed each man a cup of coffee.

"Well, he doesn't have a phone in his room in the ICU, but I talked to a nurse who said that he's 'resting comfortably.' So, as soon as I get dressed, I'm going to go up there," she took hers' and Trap's plates to the kitchen sink.

"I'll do the dishes. You go get dressed," Trap told her as she nodded.

"Let them finish eating first," Jill pointed out Terry and Chris, who were now eating, as well. "I'll be right back."

"So, how long have you and Jill been friends?" Chris asked as he ate his breakfast.

"Since we were kids. I work out at Lt. Ryker's," Trap was vague as he watched the other two men.

"So, you know Jill and you know Lt. Ryker?" Chris asked as Trap nodded. "So, you also know Mike and Terry?"

"Well, yeah," Trap watched Chris from across the counter. He knew that the curiosity had to be killing him. "I mean, did you see me introduce myself to Terry?"

"Good point," Chris said as Terry bit back a grin.

"And, he calls himself a cop?" Trap looked over at Terry.

"He's a rookie," Terry said as an excuse for his partner.

"So, do you now share the apartment with Terry?" Trap asked innocently.

"No!" Terry and Chris chimed in at the same time.

"Okay," Trap said in a slow drawl as he looked at the two men.

"We'd better go or we're going to be late," Terry pointed out as Chris nodded. "Let me let Jill know that we're going. I'm assuming that you're giving her a ride," he looked at Trap.

"Of course. The old man said that I'm to do whatever she needs me to do," Trap smiled.

"I'll meet you downstairs," Terry told Chris as he walked toward Mike and Jill's room. "Jill, are you decent?"

"Just a second," she called out as she came out of the bathroom, buttoning her shirt. "Are you leaving?"

"Yeah, because otherwise we're going to be late. Tell Michael that we'll stop by on our lunch hour. Are you going to be okay with him here?" Terry asked, referring to her temporary roommate.

"Yeah. I don't have to worry about him wanting to talk about old times," she smiled ruefully as she walked over and kissed Terry on the cheek. "Be careful, okay?"

"We will," he assured her as he left the room.

In his room at the hospital, Mike was in a somewhat foul mood. He was in a great deal of pain, but he didn't want any pain medication. He wanted to be clear-headed when Jill got there, and the medication made him feel like he was trapped in a fog. He looked up when his doctor entered the room, making notations on a clipboard. "Where's your entourage?" Mike asked as the doctor approached the bed.

"What entourage?"

"At one point I heard myself referred to as 'the 34-year-old male.' I assumed that you were talking to a bunch of other doctors, since my wife already knows how old I am and she also knows that I'm a male," Mike smiled sarcastically as the doctor examined the settings on the various machines that he was still hooked up to.

"It was med students."

"So, when do I get to leave the ICU?" Mike asked.

"Not for at least two more days. I want to have more x-rays taken sometime today. I need to make sure that your broken bones are healing properly. Do you have any questions?"

"Do you think that I can get a newspaper? I'd like to know what's going on in the world," Mike said.

"I'll have one brought in to you," the doctor said as he turned to leave.

Mike lay back against his pillow as he looked toward the window. The sky was the blue of late fall. He tried to think of what the date was. He knew that he and Jill had gone skiing Thanksgiving weekend, and he'd been in the hospital for five days now. So, that would make it around the first of December. Twenty-four days until Christmas, he thought with a smile. The Christmas season had never been special to him as an adult until he met Jill.

_December 1969 _

_Most evenings now were spent with Jill at her small trailer. Ever since Thanksgiving, things had been moving quickly between them. When he got off duty in the evenings, he would drive over to the trailer, where he could count on clean clothes to change into and a hot meal. Then, after the dishes were washed, they'd curl up on the sofa together and watch whatever was on TV. _

_In mid-December, the holiday Christmas specials would start. For some reason, Jill would refuse to watch them. Mike didn't know why, and he didn't ask. There were still too many things that she wasn't ready to talk about. But, this particular night, Mike was determined to win the fight over the holiday specials. Jill was finishing up in the kitchen while Mike read through __The TV Guide__. "Hey, let's watch 'The Grinch," Mike suggested with a grin as Jill rolled her eyes. "Come on! I love it and I never miss it. And, I promise that if you watch it with me, you'll end up loving it, too." _

"_Do you mean to tell me that you've watched 'The Grinch' even when you've been in Vietnam at Christmas?" Jill asked in disbelief as she walked into the living room and settled on the couch. _

"_I've watched all kinds of things thanks to satellite," he laid back on the sofa and put his head in her lap. "Trust me on this, okay? 'The Grinch' is better than Bob Hope." _

"_I doubt that. I know how you service guys love him," she ran her fingers through his bristly crew-cut. "Are you going to let your hair grow when you get out of the Army?" _

"_I don't know," he said as the cartoon began. _

_Within minutes, Jill understood what he meant, especially since he knew all of the lines. When he began singing along with the song 'You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch,' Jill began laughing hysterically. _

_Mike sat up and turned around to look at her. She was by now laughing so hard that tears were falling down her face. "You're laughing at me?" He asked in astonishment. _

"_Not at you exactly," she tried to explain as she began laughing again. _

"_I don't think I've ever heard you laugh before. I was beginning to think you didn't know how." _

"_I've never had anything to laugh at before now," she looked at him as she stopped laughing. _

"_I love you, baby," he pulled her close and kissed her as she melted into his embrace. _

"_Will you sing me 'The Grinch' song again?" She asked when she pulled away. _

"_Absolutely," he smiled as he pulled her toward him once more. _

Since then, it had been tradition to watch 'How the Grinch Stole Christmas' together. He wondered if it was coming on soon. He was still smiling when Jill entered the room. "You look chipper this morning," she commented as she walked over and kissed him. "Sorry I'm late, but it seems that I've acquired a new roommate, thanks to your boss."

"What're you talking about?"

"Trap stopped by this morning and told me that he's been ordered by Lt. Ryker to stay with me until you come home from the hospital," she explained. "So, what were you smiling about?"

"Are you okay with that?" He asked, ignoring her question.

"The question should be, are you okay with it? After all, you're the one who has issues with him. My issues were resolved a long time ago."

"I only had one issue and I think that's been resolved. Jill, if you don't want him there, tell him to go home. You've got Terry and Chris. Like you're so fond of telling me, you don't need a bunch of babysitters," he pointed out.

"It'll be okay. If he drives me too crazy, then I'll ask him to leave. I don't have to worry about him talking about the past, because he doesn't talk about anything that happened in that house."

"I was thinking about 'The Grinch,'" he said as she gave him a puzzled look. "You asked what I was smiling about. I was thinking about the first time you and I watched 'How the Grinch Stole Christmas' together."

"I don't think we finished watching it that first time, did we?" She looked at him with one eyebrow raised as he began to laugh. "Don't laugh too much, sweetheart. You still have a bunch of broken ribs."

"Oh, that reminds me. The doctor wants to send me up for x-rays later. He wants to make sure Humpty Dumpty's been put back together again. How fucked up was I, anyway?" He asked as she gave him a look. "Sorry, it slipped."

"Well, do you know those 500-piece jigsaw puzzles that you and Terry like to work on sometimes?" She asked as he nodded. "You were in slightly less pieces than one of those."

"I know my chest feels like a lead weight's pressing on it. One of the nurses told me last night that's due to my lungs being bruised. She said it should get better in a few weeks. A few days would've been better," he winced as she took his hand.

"I'm just glad that you're awake," she kissed his hand as she held it to her cheek.

"I'm glad that you're okay. I wouldn't have been able to stand it if I'd failed you a second time," he closed his eyes against the pain in his body.

"Why don't I get someone to give you a shot? I can tell that you're in a lot of pain. Get some sleep and I'll come back in a few hours," she stood up as she leaned down to kiss him.

"I'm not ready to sleep, yet," he protested as he pulled her back down. "Have you seen her? Have you seen the girl who caused the accident?"

"No," she said with a firm shake of her head. "I heard that she was arraigned, but I haven't seen her."

"How old is she?" He asked.

"I don't know. I think that she's in her early 20's," she told him, wondering why he was asking so many questions. "Mike, please let me call for a nurse. You're still trying to recover."

"Why are you avoiding my questions?" He asked as his voice raised a notch.

"Mike, I'm not avoiding your questions," she lowered her own voice in an attempt to calm him down. She didn't understand why he was getting so upset. "I'm worried about you. I love you. I want you to get better so that I can tell Trap to go home."

"I'll let you ring for a nurse if you'll stay until I go to sleep," he looked at her with his brilliant blue-green eyes.

"I won't go anywhere until you're asleep," she vowed as she pushed the button by his bed.

The shot took effect quickly as Jill sat at Mike's bedside, holding his hand as she watched him, much as he'd watched her sleep over the years. As she watched him, she began to understand his fascination with watching her as she slept. Usually when she watched him, he was awake and aware that she was looking at him. She'd catch his eye and he'd give her a look that was meant only for her, and it always made her feel warm inside. But, as he slept, she could watch him without his knowing what she was thinking.

She smiled as she thought about him telling her about The Grinch. Jill had never liked watching the Christmas specials because when she was a child, she never had time, and after five years of living with Cleve, watching Christmas stuff was the last thing that she wanted to do. But, watching those shows with Mike was like watching a child on Christmas morning. Ever since that night in Alabama, they now watched all of the specials. But, The Grinch remained special to both of them.

After she was sure that he was asleep, she stepped out into the corridor. She looked up as Trap walked over. "How is he?"

"Asleep," she said in a quiet voice as a she saw a nurse approaching with something in her hand. "What do you have?" She asked when the nurse stopped in front of them.

"Mike was asking for a newspaper earlier. He said he wanted to know what was going on in the world," she explained.

"He doesn't want to know what's going on in the world," Jill snapped as Trap looked at her in surprise. "He wants to obsess about that girl, just like he obsessed about the shooting."

Trap watched as Jill snatched the newspaper from the nurses' hand and stormed off. After a few minutes he went looking for her and finally found her in the waiting area. "Are you okay?" He asked as he sat down beside her.

"Now I know how Mike felt when I was in the hospital," she whispered.

"What're you talking about?"

Jill looked at her long-time friend, wondering how much she should tell him. He didn't know about the baby. Nobody did, except for her, Mike, Lt. Ryker, Terry, and Willie. Mike's parents didn't even know. She had told Mike that she couldn't stand the pity. She decided that she also wouldn't be able to bear the pity from Trap. "After I got shot, I kept asking Mike why. I guess I thought that because he was a cop, he was supposed to know why about everything. I think that it about drove him crazy. Now, he's asking me questions about that girl. How old she is, if I've seen her, things like that. He made a comment about not failing me a second time."

"He didn't fail you that night, Jill. It was just an awful tragedy. There was nothing Mike could've done to change what happened," Trap told her.

"I know that, and deep down inside, he knows it, too. It's just I don't think that he's ever going to stop blaming himself for what happened."

"He loves you very much. That's why he blames himself. He's always taken it upon himself to protect you. Do you remember anything about the accident?" He asked her.

"Not much. Mike said something right before we crashed, but I don't remember what he said. My head hurt so badly when I woke up. I called out to Mike, but he didn't answer me. Then when I felt for him, there was so much blood. Trap, I thought that they weren't going to get him out of the car," she said as her voice choked up.

"He's going to be okay now, so you can stop worrying," he smiled as he reached over and squeezed her hand. "When's the last time you had any sleep?"

"I think I was 14 at the time," she smiled as Trap laughed. "I'll sleep as much as I want when Mike comes home."

"Fine, but you'll be worn to a frazzle by then."

Chris got to the hospital later that afternoon. He saw Trap standing outside of the waiting room, sipping a cup of coffee. "Hi, where's Jill?" He asked.

"She's in there asleep," Trap nodded his head toward the waiting area.

"How's Mike?"

"Okay, I guess. They took him for x-rays, but he hasn't come back, yet. I think he's wearing Jill out," he observed.

"How so?" Chris asked.

"When he's awake, he wants her right by his side," Trap sighed.

"Well, I'm sure he's a little shaken up," Chris said.

"Jill said that he said something about not failing her a second time."

"A second time?" Chris looked puzzled.

"Yeah, he blames himself for her getting shot a few months ago," Trap said, assuming that Chris knew about that awful night.

Chris didn't say anything as he looked at Jill's friend. Instead he turned and went into the waiting room. He'd just sat down when Jill sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Has Mike come back from x-ray, yet?" She asked as she looked at Chris. He didn't respond, instead he just looked at her sadly. "What's wrong?"

"Why didn't you ever tell me that you'd gotten shot?" He asked as her face went pale. "Trap just said something about it."

"Trap has a big mouth," she said.

"Jill, I know that I'm not Willie," he said as she looked at him. "But, I don't know anything about you or Mike, for that matter."

"Just do me a favor, Chris," she looked at him as he nodded. "Don't ever ask Mike about it. He has so much guilt about that night. I mean, nothing was his fault . . . it's just complicated. It was the worst night of my life."

"I'm sure it was," he commiserated with her.

"Trap doesn't know this, so please don't say anything. Mike and I . . . we were . . . we were going to have a baby. I lost it when I got shot. Mike didn't know anything until the doctor told him. I had planned to tell him after dinner, but well . . . " she sighed as she looked at him.

"Jill, I am so sorry," he whispered. "Did they get the person who did it?"

"Oh, yeah. He's in prison now. Mike thinks that he failed me that night, so when he saw that girl's car coming, he swerved so that he'd take the impact. He told me earlier that he couldn't fail me a second time. I can't get it through to him that what happened that night wasn't his fault."

"I watch him, and I listen to him. I've also had to listen to Terry these past few months. Terry has said that Mike can get pretty unbearable to listen to where you're concerned, and I have to say that I agree with him," he grinned as Jill began to laugh.

"I'm going to go see if Mike's come back from x-ray," she said as she got up.

"Jill?" He called out as she turned around. "Why doesn't Trap know about the baby?"

"I couldn't stand the pity," she smiled sadly as she left the room.

They had just brought Mike back, but he'd been given a shot and was once again asleep, so Jill sat by his side and took his hand. She wished that she could remember more about the accident. She just wished that she could remember what Mike had said just prior to the crash. She remembered waking up to smoke and crushing pain. She tried to remember the name of the paramedic who had talked to her as they were trying to extricate her from the car. He had been very kind, assuring her that she was going to be okay, and they were going to get both her and Mike out of the car as quickly as possible.

She had tried to look over to the driver's seat, but the pain in her head and neck wouldn't let her. She couldn't get over the silence from his side of the car. There wasn't even so much as a groan from him. The silence terrified her more than the actual accident had.

"What're you thinking about?" She heard Mike's hoarse whisper and smiled at him.

"You," she lightly touched his forehead. "You're all I ever think about."

"That used to be my line," he gave her a sleepy smile.

"So, I stole it from you. How was x-ray?"

"Does it sound crazy that I was glad to get out of bed even if was just to get some stupid pictures taken?"

"Hopefully they'll be letting you out of bed soon."

"How long will I have the casts?" He looked at her.

"I don't know. Probably six to eight weeks," she watched as he grimaced. "Sweetheart, are you in pain?"

"No, no more shots. I just want to go home so that I can take care of you."

"You will soon," she assured him.

"I just want to know what that stupid girl was thinking," he murmured as he looked at Jill.

"Don't worry about that girl right now. Right now I just want you to concentrate on getting better so that you can come home. I don't sleep well without you."

"Neither do I," he reached up and stroked her cheek as she pressed into his palm. "You look exhausted."

"I'm okay," she protested.

"Dr. Hill warned me not to let you overdo things. I want you to go home and get some sleep. I don't want to see you again until this evening."

"Mike . . . "

"Go home," he said again. "I'm going to ask for a shot, anyway."

She didn't understand why he was suddenly dismissing her. He closed his eyes and didn't open them to her again. After a few more minutes she got up and left the room.

She held her tears in check until she left the room, and then she leaned against the wall and began to cry. Terry was standing at the nurses' station, chatting with Chris and Trap when he saw her come out of Mike's room. "I'll be right back," he told the other two men as he walked over toward where Jill was now sitting on the floor. "Jill, what's wrong?"

Jill looked up to find Terry standing above her. She took a deep breath as he knelt down on the floor in front of her. "I don't know, Terry. He's so angry right now, and I don't know why. He's obsessing about that girl, the way that he did about Wainz. Do you remember?"

Did he remember? How could he forget? "Do you want me to talk to him?" Terry asked.

"No," she shook her head. "I know that he's in a lot of pain, and I can't do anything about it."

Terry looked at her as she began to sob again. "Honey, you're so tired right now. Why don't I take you home so you can get some sleep?" he suggested, expecting her to put up a fight.

"Okay," she nodded.

"Okay?" He repeated in surprise as she held her hand out to him as he helped her to her feet. "Come on, we'll stop and pick up something to eat."

"Are you okay?" Trap asked as Terry and Jill walked up to the nurses' station.

"I'm just tired," she sighed as he nodded.

"I'll see you at the apartment in a little while," Trap said as Terry led Jill to the elevator. "I can't believe Terry's able to get her to leave Mike's side."

"Yeah, he has that ability," Chris commented. "Let's go get a couple of beers."

"That's the best offer I've had all day," Trap grinned as they walked to the elevator.

Later that evening, Trap was sitting on Mike and Jill's living room sofa, leafing through one of Jill's photo albums. Jill had been asleep for a couple of hours, so all was quiet in the apartment. Or at least it was until Jill's screams pierced the silence. Trap raced toward the bedroom, where he found Jill sitting straight up in bed, screaming and crying. "Jill, wake up," he said, as he sat on the edge of the bed. "Jill, you're dreaming! Wake up!"

Jill's screams finally ground to a halt as she stared at Trap. "I was dreaming about the baby," she said as she continued staring at Trap.

"What baby?" Trap asked as Jill gave him a look of horror. "Jill, please talk to me. When you got shot, were you pregnant?"

"I didn't want you to know," she began to cry as he pulled her close and held her against his chest.

"Why didn't you want me to know?" He asked as he rubbed her back.

"Because I didn't want you looking at me like you felt sorry for me," she continued sobbing.

"Jill, I'm so sorry. I know how much you and Mike wanted a baby. I wish you had told me."

"At first, I dreamed about her all of the time. Now, it only happens if I'm really tired," she said as she pulled away from him.

"You can try again, can't you?" He asked as she nodded. "Do you want to try to go back to sleep?"

"I want to talk to Mike. He's the only person who can help with this. I just don't want to make him mad again," she said as she once again started to cry.

"Jill, I'm sure that he was just tired and in pain. I doubt that his anger had anything to do with you."

"I just want him home, Trap," she choked out through her sobs. "I want him home with me and I want him to stop thinking about the girl who caused all of this."

"Hey, you know Mike. He probably thinks that the Hodges' . . . "

"Don't say her name," Jill looked at him.

"Okay, I'm sorry. He probably just thinks that she's another project that he can fix."

"Like I was?" She looked at him, her dark eyes flashing.

"That's not what I meant," he attempted to apologize as she lay back down and turned her back on him. "Try to go back to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

She listened as Trap padded out of the room and partially closed the door behind him. She knew that Trap didn't always see eye to eye with Mike. He'd accused Mike on more than one occasion of treating Jill like a project that he needed to fix. Many of Mike's friends had accused him of the same thing. At times, Jill had felt the same way. She still did sometimes. But, those feelings always left her mind when he came through their door at the end of the day. She had dreams of the night of the restaurant shooting. She'd dream that he'd come in to see her right after she'd gotten to the hospital. When she'd told Mike about the dream, he told her that he had come in to see her that night. In her dream, his eyes always looked so scared. She'd never seen him look at her like that. She didn't know why the images didn't seem real. Why they only seemed real when she dreamt about them.

She twisted her wedding ring on her finger before getting out of bed and walking over to the dresser where she'd placed the envelope with Mike's things. She opened it and pulled out the contents. She placed his wallet in one of his drawers, but she held his wedding ring and his St. Christopher in her hand. She sat on the edge of their bed and looked at both items of jewelry as if she were seeing them for the first time. She smiled as she remembered all of the nights that the medallion had pressed into her back as Mike held her close to him. When they'd first started sleeping together, she'd had to contend not only with the medallion, but with his dog tags, as well. The feeling of that medallion had always comforted her, because she knew that as long as she could feel it, Mike was right beside her.

She didn't like sleeping alone, although it was also true that she didn't sleep well even with Mike right next to her. But, at least she knew that he was there. She looked at the clock beside the bed. Even if Mike had a phone in his room, it was too late to call him. She decided to go make herself a cup of tea.

Trap looked up as she walked into the room. He watched as she went into the kitchen and put the tea kettle on to boil. He got up and walked over to sit on one of the bar stools as he watched her. "I'm sorry," he said as she looked at him. "I didn't mean to imply that you were something that Mike needed to fix."

"Sometimes I think that I was," she admitted. "Do you want some tea?"

"No," he shook his head as he made a face. "Mike and I have had more than our share of disagreements over the years, but I can't deny the fact that he is a good person and that he loves you very much."

"I love him very much, too," she smiled as she made her tea.

"I wish that one of you had told me about the baby. I know that there's nothing that I could've done," he said as she shot him a look. "But, I could've been there for both of you."

"I was so angry for such a long time after it happened. I mean, I still am, but for a long time, the anger felt like it was taking over. I was angry at Mike, I was angry at God, I was just angry at everybody, it seemed like."

"I can understand why. You had something that you wanted very badly ripped away from you. I tried to come up to see you, but Mike told me that you didn't want any visitors. You wouldn't even let Willie and Terry visit you."

"I couldn't stand the way that everybody was looking at me. Mike even started doing it. It was this look that said 'Oh, you poor thing. I'm so sorry.' It drove me crazy," she finished fixing her tea as she moved to the living room and sat down in her favorite chair.

"That's why you never said anything?" He looked at her as she nodded. "Jill, I can't say that I wouldn't look at you that way. I just wanted to let you know that I was there and that I was thinking of you. That if you needed anything, all you had to do was pick up the telephone and call me."

"I guess the reason why I'm thinking so much about that night is because Mike is doing it again," she sipped her tea. "He blames himself for what happened the night of the shooting, and he's blaming himself for this accident. He swerved the car on purpose to keep me from getting more badly hurt. He told me and Terry that he couldn't fail me a second time."

"The two of you didn't ask that idiot to enter that restaurant that night any more than you asked that girl to get high and get behind the wheel of a car. Maybe when he's feeling better, he'll start thinking more clearly."

"Maybe," she said as she continued drinking her tea.

Mike was just waking up the next morning when he heard a light rap on the glass door. He looked over to find Terry standing there. "Come on in," Mike waved him in. "Did you have trouble getting Jill to go home? I told her that I didn't want her up here until last night, but she hasn't been back."

"I talked to Trap a little while ago. He said that she slept most of the night. He'll bring her up here later."

Mike looked at his friend, knowing that he had something else on his mind besides Jill and her nefarious sleeping habits. "What else is bothering you? Is it something else about Jill?"

"No, but she's why I'm here. Mike, Jill thinks that you're obsessing about that girl that same way that you used to obsess about Wainz."

"I don't think about the Hodges girl as much as I think about the two people that died because of her. Terry, that could've just as easily been Jill, me, or both of us. You don't understand how hard I've fought to keep her safe. At first, it was keeping her safe from Cleve. That was actually easy compared to everything since then."

"You thought that he was going to kill her when he came back, didn't you? That's why you didn't want to leave town."

"Cleve always had an agenda and that agenda always involved Jill. He kept her locked up like a virtual prisoner for five years in a house not too far from here. Remind me and I'll take you by there sometime. In the end she slashed her wrists to get away from him. The first night that I met her, the first thing that I noticed about Jill was her eyes. At that time, they dominated her whole face. She didn't trust me for a long time. When I started dating her, everybody accused me of trying to fix her. Trap still accuses me of it today."

"Mike, it wasn't you or Jill that died in that accident. You saved her by putting your own life on the line. If you keep talking to me about her life with him, you're going to tell me things that you promised Jill you'd never repeat," Terry reminded him. "If she wants me to know, it's going to have to come from her."

"You're right," Mike rubbed a weary hand over his face.

"But, she did tell Chris something," Terry told Mike. "He said that she told him about the baby."

"Why did she tell him?"

"I don't know. He said that Trap said something about the night that Jill was shot, and I guess he started asking her questions about it. Are you okay with it?" Terry knew that Mike didn't like talking about that night.

"I guess I have to be. Terry, is Jill okay? She was so upset last night, and I guess I didn't help when I all but snapped her head off," he sighed.

"She's okay," Terry assured him.

"It's just hard to wrap my mind around the fact that we were in an accident where two people died. It makes me think 'there but for the grace of God go I,'" he closed his eyes as Terry got up. "You don't have to leave."

"Get some rest," he told him. "Jill will be here in a little while."

As he closed his eyes, he couldn't help but wonder how the families of the dead kids were handling everything.


	7. Chapter 7

The Hero Always Comes in Riding a White Horse

**Disclaimers: Still don't own 'The Rookies,' although it's nice to dream.**

**Mike becomes despondent about the possibility of spending Christmas in the hospital following a setback. This chapter is also going to feature the girl who caused the accident.**

Chapter 7

Isabelle Hodges was in her bedroom closet, trying to decide what to wear to Amy Tyler's Christmas party. She had already pulled out a number of dresses and threw them to the back of her closet when she decided that she hated them. Huffing in frustration, she walked back into her room and threw herself onto her bed as she reached for her phone. "Amy, it's Izzy," she said when she friend answered the phone. "I have absolutely nothing to wear to your party."

"Well, that's easy to fix," her friend told her. "Let's go shopping."

"I have a better idea," Isabelle warmed to the task at hand. "Call Christina and we'll have lunch, then we'll go to Dior and then we'll get our hair done."

"Uh, I don't know if Tina will go, Izzy," Amy hesitated as she waited for the explosion from Isabelle.

"What do you mean; you don't think she'll go? Of course she'll go! Tell her that I'll treat!"

"Izzy, her brother just died," Amy reminded her, wondering how Isabelle could be so self-centered, especially when she was the cause of her friends' brothers' death.

"Just call her and then call me back," Isabelle demanded as she hung up.

Isabelle was tired of everybody going on about the stupid car wreck. Didn't they understand that her neck still hurt, even a week after the accident? She was sorry that her friends had died, but it was an accident. She hadn't meant for anybody to get hurt. They were supposed to go to the mountains, party, and have a good time. She knew that the wicked witch was still furious. She'd heard her arguing with Isabelle's father over the fact that he had bailed her out of jail. Isabelle couldn't believe that she'd actually expected her to stay there, surrounded by prostitutes and drug addicts. The thought made her skin crawl.

Her phone rang a few minutes later. "Hello?"

"Tina said she'll go. She said that she needs to get out of the house for a few hours, anyway. She said that she'll meet us at Merino's," Amy said.

"Okay, I'll meet you there in an hour," Isabelle said as she hung up the phone and skipped downstairs to the dining room where her father and step-mother were having breakfast. "Daddy, can I borrow the keys to your Town Car?"

"Where are you off to, precious?" Raymond Hodges smiled at his only daughter.

"I'm meeting Amy and Tina for lunch. Then, we're going shopping," Isabelle answered as she looked over at her step-mother, who was shooting daggers at Isabelle with her eyes.

"You're meeting Christina Wentworth?" Arlene Hodges looked at her husband, and then her stepdaughter.

"Yes, Arlene. Christina Wentworth. How many Tina's do you think I know?"

"Here are the keys, Izzy," Raymond handed the keys over to his daughter. "Do you need my credit card?"

"Uh, yeah. I probably will," Izzy smiled sweetly as her father took out his wallet and handed her two plastic cards. "Thank you, daddy. I love you."

"I love you, too, kitten," he said as he watched her leave the room. "Don't start again, Arlene."

"Raymond, she has killed two people, yet you give her the keys to your car as if you were handing her a twenty dollar bill. She's spoiled and she's never going to learn anything as long as she thinks everything is just handed to her," Arlene shouted as the maid started to enter the room, before thinking better of it.

"You make it sound like she put a gun to those two kids and shot them. It was an accident. She's a good girl," he said as he started to leave the table.

Arlene sighed as she watched her husband leave the room. She didn't know what it was going to take to make him wake up and see what his daughter really was. When they had gotten the call about the accident, Arlene was horrified, but deep down; she had been expecting something like this for some time. Isabelle had been on the fast track to self-destruction since she was 13 years old. First with marijuana, then alcohol, and now cocaine. She knew that they were probably going to be burying her before she was 25.

The crowd that she hung out with didn't help. They were nothing but a bunch of spoiled, entitled, trust fund kids. None of them knew the meaning of going out and getting their hands dirty to earn a living. They believed that everything was handed to them.

So far, Isabelle had shown no emotion whatsoever over the deaths of her two friends. Melissa Billings had been Izzy's best friend since the two were in private school together as young children. Chad Wentworth had been at many parties in their home. Melissa's brother, Kyle, was now at home recovering from the injuries he'd suffered in the accident. And, the last time that Arlene had checked, Officer Danko was still in the hospital. She'd wanted to send a card or go meet with him, but Izzy's attorney said it was a bad idea.

Isabelle pulled up in front of the restaurant at 12 noon, and handed her keys to a valet, who nodded as he got behind the wheel of the Town Car and drove off. She smiled when she entered the Italian restaurant and was shown to a table where her two friends were already sitting. "I'm sorry that I'm late," she apologized as she kissed each of them on the cheek before sitting down. "I had to borrow my father's car and traffic was just awful," she complained as a waiter approached the table. "I'll have a vodka and tonic. What will you have to drink?" She asked her companions.

"Iced tea," Amy said as Isabelle made a face.

"Club soda," Tina said as the waiter smiled and walked off.

"Iced tea? Club soda? Seriously?" Isabelle stared at the two girls. "When did you two become my stepmother?"

"Izzy, if I show up with liquor on my breath, my father will kill me," Tina hissed. "He wasn't too pleased that I was even meeting you in the first place."

"Why?" Isabelle asked innocently.

"_Why_? Isabelle, my brother just died! Speaking of which, we missed you at the funeral. He was your friend. I really thought that you'd be there," Tina said reproachfully as she watched Isabelle, who was intently studying the menu.

"My head and neck were hurting horribly. I'm just sure that my quack of a doctor missed something. My head still hurts," she complained as the waiter reappeared with their drinks.

Tina watched as the waiter placed their drinks in front of them. Her father was right. This had been a bad idea. How could Isabelle sit there and complain about how badly her head hurt? At least she could feel pain. Her older brother Chad was beyond feeling anything. "Have you talked to Kyle?" Tina asked, referring to Isabelle's best friend's brother, who had survived the accident with minor injuries.

"I tried to call a couple of days ago, but his father refused to let him talk to me. I heard my father and Arlene arguing last night. I guess the Billing's have hired a lawyer and are going to sue me. The way everybody's carrying on, you'd think I'd have shot Melissa and Kyle," she scoffed.

Tina just shook her head. She didn't bother to tell Isabelle that her parents were thinking of joining the Wentworth's in the lawsuit. Her mother had been sedated and under her doctor's care since the accident. Her father was barely functioning. Tina missed her brother desperately, but Isabelle didn't seem to care about any of that. All she cared about was what she was going to wear to Amy's stupid Christmas party. "I have to go," Tina said as she suddenly got up from the table.

"Tina, what're you talking about? You just got here," Isabelle argued. "Sit down and I'll buy you lunch, and then we'll go to Christian Dior's and find something fabulous to wear tonight."

"Isabelle, I have no intention of going to any Christmas party tonight! My brother is dead and you want to go to a fucking party after you killed him? I hope that you rot in hell!" Tina was shouting as other diners turned to stare.

"Excuse my friend," Isabelle smiled at the other patrons. "She's had a stressful week."

Amy didn't say anything as she watched Isabelle finish her drink and quickly order another. The accident had been all that anybody could talk about all week. One of her classmates at UCLA had told her that Melissa's parents had to have a closed casket at her funeral. "Isabelle, do you really think that you need that?" Amy asked as the waiter brought over another vodka and tonic.

"Oh, don't you start, too!" Isabelle glared at her friend. "That's all I've heard all week from the Wicked Witch. She had the audacity to tell my father that maybe I should go somewhere and dry out. I don't have a problem. I don't see why everybody is so upset! I wrecked my brand new car and my neck is probably permanently damaged."

Amy shook her head as she listened to Isabelle. Two of her friends had died, and yet it was all about her. Her car and her neck. "Isabelle, can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"Were you drinking . . . you know? The day that you had the wreck," Amy took a sip of her tea as she waited for the answer.

"We had some wine at lunchtime, but I certainly wasn't loaded. The cops even told my father that my alcohol level was well below the legal limit," Isabelle neglected to mention, however, that the same couldn't be said for the levels of cocaine and marijuana in her system. "It was Missy's fault. If she'd steered the car right, I wouldn't have wrecked."

"How could Missy steer if you were the one driving? Izzy, I don't understand."

"I was trying to take my ski jacket off. I asked Missy to take the wheel because I couldn't get my coat off. I can't help it if she's a moron."

Amy sighed as she glanced at her watch. "Izzy, I just remembered that I promised my mother that I'd run some errands for her this afternoon. Do you mind if we cut this short?"

"I guess not," Isabelle sighed. "The party starts at seven, right?"

"Yeah, seven," Amy agreed as she got up and quickly left the restaurant.

She was deep in thought as she waited for the valet to bring her car around. How could Isabelle speak so ill of the dead? Supposedly Melissa Billings had been her best friend and now she was referring to her as a moron. Amy really didn't want Isabelle at her party, but she couldn't very well un-invite her now. Well, she might not be able to un-invite her, but she could surely turn her into a pariah.

"Do you think I'll be home in time for Christmas?" Mike asked grumpily.

"I don't know. If not, we'll make the most of it. I mean, it's not like we haven't spent Christmas apart before," she reminded him, speaking of when he'd gone overseas the last time.

"Do me a favor when you get home," he smiled wistfully. "There's a metal box at the top of our closet, behind my service medals. Can you bring me that box? There's something in it that I'd like to have."

"What's in the box?" She asked curiously.

"Don't worry about it," he grinned mysteriously. "Just please bring me the box."

"Okay. Do you need anything else?" She asked as she glanced at her watch. They were about to make the announcement saying that visiting hours were over.

"No, just the box," he said as he heard the P.A. making the announcement. "I'll see you early in the morning."

"I'll be here," she stood up and kissed him lingeringly before leaving his room. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

When she walked into the apartment half an hour later, Trap was in the kitchen. "I hope that you're hungry because I'm making spaghetti for dinner."

"I hope your spaghetti's better than mine," she said as she opened the closet and removed the small plastic footstool from inside of it.

Trap didn't say anything as he went back to cutting up tomatoes for a salad. It was only a few minutes later when he heard the sound of something crashing from the bedroom that he became concerned. "Jill, are you okay?" He asked as he ran back to the bedroom.

Jill was standing on the footstool as she reached for something in the closet. "Here, take this," she said as she handed a wooden box down to him. It was then that she saw the gray metal box that Mike had been asking about. She pulled it out as she stepped off of the footstool and took the box over to their bed.

"What is that?" Trap asked as she sat down and opened the box.

"I don't know. Mike was asking for it," she said as she saw a bundle of letters sitting on top and circled with a rubber band. "I don't believe it."

"What is it?" He asked as he looked over her shoulder. "Who are the letters from?"

"Me," she smiled at him as she leafed through them. "I wrote him until I left to go to California. He never answered me, but I kept writing. I can't believe that he kept them."

"Why did you stop writing?" He asked.

"I was angry and scared. I don't really know. I guess I'll take these to him in the morning. I don't know why he was asking me for them."

"I'm going to go check on dinner," Trap said as he left the room, sensing that Jill wanted to be alone.

Looking at the letters, Jill's eyes filled with tears. Judging by the smeared writing on the pages, Mike must've about worn them out reading them. It made her feel better knowing that he had read her letters and enjoyed them. A part of her was still angry that he'd never responded, but she remembered him telling her that he wasn't a big letter writer.

Keeping the box on the bed, she picked up his wooden box and opened it. Inside, nestled on dark blue velvet, were Mike's service medals. She remembered as he'd explained to her what all of the different medals had stood for. The Purple Heart she knew was when he'd crashed his helicopter in the middle of the jungle. The Silver Star and Bronze Star were for bravery. The others she couldn't remember. She remembered how handsome Mike had looked on their wedding day with the rows of medals decorating his dress uniform. She'd never felt more proud and more in love in her life. She still couldn't believe that he had saved her letters.

Isabelle arrived at the party at the Tyler house shortly after seven o'clock. She had found a beautiful red Dior dress that she was wearing with red high-heeled sandals with diamond earrings in her ears and a diamond choker around her neck.

When she entered the house, she accepted a glass of champagne from a maid walking around with a tray. But, as she walked around, she noticed the other guests looking at her, and then quickly looking away and whispering. "Izzy!" She heard someone calling her name. She turned and smiled when she saw Amy walking toward her. "I'm so glad that you could make it."

"The house looks beautiful," Isabelle said, as she sipped her champagne.

"I'll tell my mother that you said so."

"Did you get the errands done for your mother?" Isabelle asked, referring to Amy's excuse for leaving lunch earlier that day.

Amy didn't say anything as her eyes met Isabelle's. "Come on and get something to eat," she slipped her arm in Isabelle's as she led her over to a buffet table where a variety of different foods were laid out enticingly.

As Isabelle fixed her plate, she could hear bits of whispered conversation around her. Her head jerked to her right sharply as she heard the words "stoned," "doesn't even care," ". . . was her best friend."

She turned to face Amy, who was watching her with a self-satisfied smirk on her face. "What have you done?" Isabelle hissed as she faced her one-time friend.

"Oh, I just made a few phone calls. I told Laura Welch about our lunch, and I'm sure that she called Margaret Timmons, and on down the line. Let's just say that I don't think you should be looking for any invitations for the season's coming-out parties," Amy continued smirking as she walked away.

Isabelle couldn't think of anything to say as she looked at the other guests at the party, who all seemed to be standing around, staring at her. She threw her china plate to the floor, before storming out of the house. "Amy, whatever happened to Isabelle?" June Tyler asked her daughter.

"Oh, I don't know, mother. I think that maybe she had a headache."

"Well, get Ramona to clean up that mess before someone slips and falls."

Arlene Hodges was in the den when she heard the front door open and close shortly after 10 o'clock. Surely, Isabelle couldn't be returning home so soon, she thought to herself as she walked to the front entryway. Her heart jumped into her throat as she saw her stepdaughter come staggering into the house, quite obviously intoxicated. "Isabelle, are you drunk?" Arlene asked. "Did you drive home?"

"Yes, to both questions, Arlene dear. I've driven drunk more times than you'd care to know about, Stepmother darling, and have never so much as scratched the fender," Isabelle slurred as she swayed unsteadily on the high heeled shoes that she was wearing.

"How can you continue to act like this? Haven't you done enough? Melissa and Chad are dead because of you!"

"Everybody acts like I put a gun to their heads and shot them! It was a car _accident_, Arlene. People have car wrecks all of the time. Does it make those people murderers? Why doesn't anybody care that my head and my neck still hurt? Nobody asks me how I feel! It's always poor Chad and poor Melissa. Don't you understand that _I don't care_!"

"Isabelle!" Isabelle turned when she heard her father's voice to her left. "Go up to your room. I'll have Martha bring you some coffee."

"Raymond, we have to do something," Arlene implored her husband as they heard Isabelle's bedroom door slam closed. "If we don't, it's only a matter of time before she kills herself. Maybe we can make a deal and have her go into rehab."

"No," Raymond shook his head. "Lawrence said if it was the matter of just one fatality, he could maybe arrange for rehab. But, with both children dying and that police officer being so badly hurt, he said she's going to have to do some time."

"When were you going to tell me this?"

"I don't know, Arlene. Frankly, I thought that you didn't give a damn."

"How can you say that? Raymond, Isabelle has been my daughter since she was nine years old. I love her, but I fear for her, too."

"It'll all work out. I'll have Martha take her that coffee."

Mike was smiling brightly the next morning when Jill came into the room holding the bundle of letters in her hand. "You're looking chipper this morning," she kissed him.

"I see that you opened the box," he nodded toward the letters.

"I was curious," she admitted. "I can't believe that you kept my letters."

"Why wouldn't I keep them? If I'd bothered to write to you, I know you would've kept my letters. I do have good news," he smiled as she looked at him expectantly. "They're moving me to a regular room. Hopefully, in a day or two I'll be up on crutches."

"That's great," she kissed him again.

"Give me my letters," he held out his hand as she gave him the bundle. "Why did you stop writing?"

"I got so angry, Mike. Plus, I was getting so much grief from Trap and Amanda. Will you read them to me when you come home? I don't even remember what I said in them."

"Hey, these letters are private," he teased as he held them away from her. "You have no idea just what I used to do . . . "

"Never mind," she blushed as he burst out laughing. "I know exactly what you used to do. Terry was telling me that you just never struck him as the sex maniac type. He said you looked way too straight-laced."

"We've proved him wrong, haven't we?"

"Have they upped your pain medication this morning?" She asked.

"No, I'm just high on life," he grinned as she rolled her eyes.

Mike was reading his letters later that morning in his new room when Lt. Ryker stopped by. "Where's Jill?" He asked as he pulled up a chair and sat down.

"She's talking to my doctors. Apparently they're having a big pow-wow and it's all about me."

"Maybe they're talking about your release," the lieutenant suggested.

"Somehow I doubt that. What's new with the investigation?"

"The latest is they're trying to get the Hodges girl into re-hab. What're you reading?" He asked, changing the subject.

"Jill's letters that she wrote to me while I was overseas. I got a letter a month for seven months and then . . . nothing," he said bitterly as he placed the letter on his tray table.

"Why did she stop writing?"

"Because I fucked up," Mike answered honestly.

"That's part of what you were trying to make right when I first met Jill?" Ryker asked as Mike nodded. "She told me about it a long time ago."

When Jill stepped into the room where the meeting regarding Mike was taking place, she was surprised to see another doctor at the table besides Dr. Hill. "Mrs. Danko, please have a seat," Dr. Hill waved her toward a chair.

"Is Mike all right?" She asked as she sat down.

"Mrs. Danko, I'm Dr. King," the other doctor introduced himself. "I'm an orthopedic surgeon. Dr. Hill has asked me to consult on your husband's case."

"I thought you told me that the x-rays showed that everything was healing all right," she looked at Dr. Hill.

"Mrs. Danko, as you know, Mike's leg was broken in two places," Dr. King walked over and placed Mike's x-ray on the viewer and turned on the light. "Break one, right here," he pointed, "is healing well. But, the tibia bone isn't healing as well as I'd like to see."

"Can't you re-cast it?"

"I wish it was as simple as that," he turned off the viewer and returned to his seat. "I want to perform surgery to insert a metal plate into the bone."

"He was so happy this morning," she put her head in her hands. "He was happy to be getting out of ICU. He thought maybe he was a step closer to coming home."

"Mrs. Danko, if I don't do this surgery and he suffers another injury to that leg, it could be catastrophic."

"When do you want to do the surgery?"

"Tomorrow morning. I've already got an OR scheduled."

"When were you going to talk to Mike?"

"Soon. Within the next hour. I just wanted to meet with you first and talk to you."

"Let me talk to him. He's not going to take it well, but he'll take it better if he hears it from me."

"Okay. Tell him that I'll be in later this afternoon to answer any questions he might have."

Jill left the room and went into the ladies restroom, where she locked herself into a stall and cried. Not more surgery! She wanted him home. Christmas was just a few weeks away. She didn't want him spending the holidays in the hospital. After crying for several minutes, she left the stall and walked over to the sink where she washed her face.

Mike looked toward the door when he heard it open. "Hi, baby," he breathed when she came into the room. "How was the meeting? Are they threatening to throw me out?" Her face looked crestfallen as she walked over to the bed. "Baby? What's going on?"

"Mike, they want to do surgery on your leg."

"Son of a bitch!" He yelled out as he pounded his fist on the bed.

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry," she reached for his hand as her eyes filled with tears. "The ortho guy said it's not healing like he hoped that it would. He wants to put in a metal plate to stabilize the bone. He said that if he doesn't and you hurt that leg again, it could be catastrophic."

"When?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"Jill, I'm so tired," he whispered as he closed his eyes. "I hurt all of the time. I can't take a deep breath, my heart feels like it's going to fly out of my chest, my legs both hurt, my arms hurt, my head hurts . . . "

"I know," she took his hand and gently squeezed his fingers. "I know you're hurting and I know that you're scared. But, all of the other x-rays were fine. It's just your leg that's still a problem."

"Ryker was here a little while ago. He said that the Hodges girl's attorney is trying to get her into re-hab. Re-hab? Can you fucking believe it? She kills two people, injures four others, and she wants to go to a damn country club environment for rich people so she can dry out!"

"I told him when I found out about her that could've been me. I remember what it was like to be 19 years old and that messed up. The only difference between us is I had someone to save me."

"I love you," he reached up and touched her cheek. "You're the best thing that has ever happened to me in my life."

"No, you're the best thing that has ever happened to me," she argued as she moved closer to him. "I just want you back home, Mike. I miss you so much."

"If I'm going to have surgery, you might want to hold onto these," he handed her the letters. "I don't them disappearing on me."

"I'll give them back to you when you're more fully awake," she kissed him.

Trap, Terry and Chris were sitting in Mike and Jill's apartment when she got home that afternoon, still clutching the bundle of letters in her hands. "Hey, Jill!" Trap greeted her.

When she didn't reply, the three men looked over at her. She was standing against the closed door, holding the letters to her chest as she fought back a surge of tears. "Jill?" Terry got up and walked over to her. "What's wrong? Is Mike okay?"

"He has to have more surgery," she managed to gulp out before her voice broke.

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry," Terry walked over and enfolded her into his arms much as he'd seen Mike do a thousand times before. "Why does he have to have surgery?"

"His leg," she sobbed against his chest. "They want to put a metal plate into it. He was so upset when I told him, Terry! I didn't realize how much he's hurting! He just wants to come home!"

"He'll be home soon," he soothed her. "What are you holding in your hand?"

"Oh, these are letters that I wrote to Mike while he was overseas. I didn't even know that he'd kept them."

"Why would you think that he wouldn't keep them?" Terry asked in surprise.

"I don't know. I just didn't think men were sentimental about letters. I guess that I was wrong."

"I'm willing to bet that Mike has a box filled with all kinds of stuff that you don't know about," he said as she began laughing. "What's so funny?"

"I found these in a metal box, but I didn't look to see what else was in it. But, I have the ticket stub from the first movie he took me to see."

"Did you keep the popcorn box, too? Did you keep his letters to you?"

"Mike didn't write to me, Terry," she said as her face darkened. "It was one of the things that we fought about when I first went back to him. Do you remember?"

"Yeah, I remember. Willie and I were making bets on how long you were going to stick around. So, why did you keep writing if he never answered your letters?"

"I didn't write the entire time that he was over there. When I came back to California, I stopped writing. By that time, I was so angry and scared that I didn't care if I ever heard from him."

"He was wrong not to write. He didn't have the right to scare you like that. It would've served him right if you had divorced him."

"I thought about it," she admitted. "But, he knows my secrets, and he didn't run away when I told him. How many other men could I say that about?"

"Are you hungry? We were going to order pizza."

"No," she shook her head. "Mike was telling me that the Hodges girl might be going to re-hab. Do you remember when I went to talk to Mr. Saul?"

"Of course I remember. I drove you to the jail. Jill, please tell me you're not thinking what I think you're thinking."

"I have to talk to her, Terry. I have to know why."


	8. Chapter 8

The Hero Always Comes in Riding a White Horse

**Disclaimers: Spelling/Goldberg still has refused me ownership, so what can I say? I know, I know. I don't own 'The Rookies' and never will. Yada yada yada.**

**Mike has surgery. Jill meets with Isabelle Hodges, with surprising results. And, just what is in those seven mysterious letters that Jill wrote to Mike during his last tour in Vietnam? Well, we're about to find out.**

Chapter 8

Jill arrived at the hospital the next morning after having spent a night with very little sleep. She spotted the anesthesiologist coming out of Mike's room. "He's going to be a little punchy, but you can go on in," he smiled.

Mike opened his eyes when Jill came into the room. He smiled at her and then burst into a fit of giggling. "I see that the shot is working," she noted as she sat down.

"I feel really, really good right now," he slurred as she couldn't help but bite back a smile. "I mean, really, really good. But, I'm seeing two of you right now."

"I know," she smiled. "I spoke to Dr. King last night, Mike. Are you listening to me or are you too stoned?"

"You talked to Dr. King," he nodded his head.

"He said that if everything goes well, they'll have you in P.T. in a couple of days."

"And, then home?"

"Soon," she took his hand and kissed it. "He said maybe even before Christmas."

"That sounds wonderful," he slurred as his eyes drifted closed. "I love you, baby."

"I love you, too," she kissed his forehead as the orderlies came in to take him to surgery. "I'll see you in a few hours."

Terry and Chris stopped by the hospital in between calls to check on Mike. When they walked into the waiting room, Trap was sitting on the couch reading a magazine as Jill slept with her head in his lap. "Have you heard anything?" Terry whispered, not wanting to awaken Jill.

"They said they were finishing up. It should be another half hour or so. I don't think she slept well last night," he said, indicating Jill.

"That's because she didn't," she mumbled as she sat up, her hair mussed from sleep. "Where are Mike's parents?"

"They went to get some coffee. They'll be back soon," Trap told her.

"When did I fall asleep in your lap?" She asked in alarm.

"A little while ago. Don't worry, it was after they left. I moved you because you looked like your neck was about to break."

As if on cue, Mr. and Mrs. Danko came back into the waiting room. "Oh, you're awake," Mr. Danko looked to where Jill and Trap were sitting. "You might want to freshen up before you talk to the doctor."

Jill sighed as she got up and left the room to go 'freshen up' as her father-in-law had phrased it. She hadn't seen or heard from either of them in the past three days. She was frankly surprised that they'd shown up this morning for Mike's surgery.

She came back into the waiting room at the same time as the doctor. "The surgery went very well," he told her as she let out the breath that she'd been holding. "He'll be back in his room in about an hour, but he's going to be pretty out of it for the rest of the day."

"Is it still the plan to get him back on his feet in a couple of days?" She asked anxiously.

"Within the next 72 hours. I have to tell you that he's not going to like it," the doctor chuckled. "It's going to be extremely painful."

"So, you're warning me that he's going to be grumpy," Jill smiled.

"Yes, he is. But, hopefully we'll get him out of here soon."

"I hope so," she sighed as the doctor walked away.

Mike was having the most amazing dream. He and Jill were at their favorite inn on Santa Catalina Island and he was making love to her in front of the fireplace. "Mike," he heard Jill's voice calling to him from far away. "Michael?"

He opened his eyes and looked into huge brown eyes. The most beautiful brown eyes he'd ever seen in his life. "I was dreaming about you and me and a fireplace in Catalina," he smiled.

"We'll go to Catalina soon. I promise. The doctor said that the surgery went great and you'll be starting physical therapy in a couple or three days."

"That's good," he slurred. "I'm really tired, baby."

"Get some sleep and I'll come back in the morning."

"Can you bring my letters back?"

"I'll bring them with me," she stood up and kissed him on the forehead. "Take your dream back to Catalina."

"I intend to," he smiled as he went back to sleep.

Later that afternoon, Jill was reading in Mike's chair when the doorbell rang. She walked over and looked through the peephole, surprised to find Lt. Ryker standing there. "Please tell me that you need Trap back out at the cottage," she said as she opened the door.

"No, he can stay a few more days. Webster was telling me that you want to talk to the Hodges girl? You do realize that this could cause a problem if she goes to trial?"

"From what I understand, she just doesn't seem to get it. I think the reason that she doesn't get it is because she's being preached to by people who haven't walked in her shoes."

"Jill, you may have been messed up, but you didn't get behind the wheel drunk and plow your car into somebody!" Ryker roared at her. "I'm sorry, but jail is the wakeup call that this girl needs!"

"Am I going to be allowed to talk to her or not?"

"Her attorney has put the ball into her court. He'll contact the D.A. by the end of today, and the D.A. will contact you one way or the other. I understand that Mike's surgery went well."

"Yes, it did. The doctor hopes to have him home by Christmas."

"That's very good news. I just came by to see if you'd lost your mind wanting to talk to this girl."

"I have to do this, Eddie."

"I know. Get some rest and take care of that husband of yours. I need him back on duty to keep Owens and Webster in line."

"I'll pass that information on," she grinned as he kissed her on the cheek.

The next morning, while still feeling groggy, Mike nonetheless felt much better than he had the day before. His leg throbbed badly, but he'd already been told that would feel worse before it felt better. The therapist had already come in and told him what to expect in the days ahead. To Mike, it sounded worse than basic training had in the army. He fingered the bundle of letters that Jill had returned to him earlier that morning. Seven letters. He must've read them over a thousand times. The first letter had been full of how much she missed him and how she couldn't wait to see him again. But, by the last letter, the tone had changed. In the last letters, she was angry and fearful.

He picked up the first letter and slipped it out of the airmail envelope, imagining that he was once again in base camp when the mail arrived. Her letters were what had kept him going. He could smell her scent in the letters, even now, though he knew it was the power of his imagination.

_March 18, 1971_

_Dear Mike,_

_I can't believe that you've been gone for almost 90 days now. It feels like a lifetime. I miss you so much. I try to keep busy, but I still find myself thinking of you a thousand times a day. I wonder where you are. I wonder if you're all right. I hope you're not looking at other girls. Wear your sunglasses because I don't want those girls seeing those eyes of yours. _

He smiled as he read that.

_It's been storming quite a bit. I miss not having you here at night when the storms come. I wish that I knew that you were okay. I could bear anything if I knew that you were safe. I could even bear the storms. Someday you'll have to tell me why you don't like to write letters. You don't have to tell me the awful stuff. I see that on the news. I miss hearing you say that you love me. I feel like I can't say that enough to you. _

_I can't wait to see you next January. But, it still feels like a lifetime. In the meantime, I read a lot and do some work on the base. I love you so much and I miss you a lot. _

_I love you,_

_Jill_

_XOXOXO_

He grimaced as he remembered her last line about seeing him in January. If he'd done what he was supposed to do, she would've seen him then. If she hadn't run away, she definitely would've seen him then. But, she'd run and he'd fucked up. Sometimes he felt that there was no way to fix that, no matter how hard he tried.

He looked up to find his father standing in the doorway with a vase of roses and a large box. "Pop?" Mike waved him into the room. "Are those mama's prize roses?"

"They are," his father confirmed as he placed the vase on a nearby chest of drawers. "Your mother also sent these," he handed Mike the box.

Mike grinned when he opened the box. "Applesauce raisin cookies. My favorites," he smiled as he took a cookie from the box and took a bite.

"Your mother said to share those with your friends."

"Yes, father," Mike made a face. "Can I give the roses to Jill?"

"Of course. Are you going to be out of here in time for Christmas?"

"I hope so. I start therapy tomorrow."

"Therapy? With a cast on your leg?" His father made a face.

"They want me on my feet."

"It would mean a lot to your mother if you and Jill would join us for Christmas."

"A lot to mother, huh?"

"Michael, let's please not have this conversation again. It's pointless."

"Jill calls it beating a dead horse. I'll talk to Jill and get back to you. But, thank you for the invitation."

Seeing that his son was tiring, Mr. Danko quickly cut the visit short. Mike took another cookie from the box before putting the lid back on and placing the box on his tray table. He remembered that his mother had always put in a couple dozen of his favorite cookies in his care packages that she'd mail him when he was overseas.

He was about to about Jill's second letter when he saw that he once again had company. He smiled when Terry and Chris walked into the room. "I have to say that you look much better than you did a few days ago," Terry remarked as he walked over and clasped Mike's hand.

"I'm not ready to run a marathon, but I'm getting there. I just want to go home and be with my wife again. How is she? The truth," he looked pointedly at both of them.

"Terry and I are convinced that she's this close to losing her mind," Chris said, indicating a point with his pinched fingers.

"If you're referring to the not sleeping, Terry and I are used to that. She hasn't slept well since before I married her."

"She hasn't told you, then?" Chris looked at Terry.

"Told me what?"

"Mike, she's planning on talking to the Hodges girl," Terry said as Mike groaned. "I think the lieutenant was going to try to talk her out of it."

"You can't talk Jill out of anything," Mike covered his face with his hands. "What does she hope to accomplish?"

"I don't know," Terry sighed. "I think she just wants her to accept responsibility for what she's done."

"Isabelle Hodges is 19 years old and comes from a family with more money than sense. She isn't going to accept responsibility for anything."

"Let's talk about something else," Chris suggested as he eyed the box on Mike's table. "What's in the box? Something else from Jill?"

"No, those are from my mother. Help yourselves," Mike waved toward the box.

"Oh, these are great," Terry closed his eyes as he bit into the cookie.

"Mother used to send these to me all of the time when I was overseas," Mike remembered. "They'd last all of about five minutes once I opened them."

"I can understand why," Chris said as he grabbed two more cookies.

"Hey, leave some for the patient!" Mike protested.

"So, are you enjoying your letters?" Terry pointed to the bundle in Mike's lap.

"I enjoy these letters every time I read them. I was crushed when Jill stopped writing."

"You do understand _why _she stopped writing, don't you?" Terry asked him.

"Yeah. I was so stupid."

"If you're looking for me to disagree, you can forget it."

"I didn't expect you to," Mike smiled at his friend.

The D.A. called Jill just as she was getting ready to take Trap's truck to drive to the hospital to visit Mike. "Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked her.

"I have to do this. Are you going to let me?"

"From what your friend Lt. Ryker tells me, I'll be hard-pressed to stop you. Ms. Hodges attorney will be present, as will someone from my office. This is non-negotiable."

"Okay," Jill agreed. "Do you think I can have some of the pictures from the accident site?"

"Mrs. Danko . . . "

"Please? I'm trying to prove a point here."

"Do you want the photos of your car or both cars?"

"Both cars, and all of the victims. I want her seeing the reality of what she's done."

"Mrs. Danko, I have to warn you that the photos of the Billings girl are particularly hard to stomach."

"Good," Jill said stubbornly. "This is exactly why she needs to see it. If you're worried about me, don't be. I'm a nurse. I've see victims of all kinds of tragedies."

"I'm sure that you have, but it's a different situation when you're related to the victim. Have you seen the pictures that were taken of Officer Danko right after the accident?"

"No," her voice was almost inaudible.

"You might want to look at them before you talk about shoving these photos into Isabelle Hodges' face tomorrow morning."

Jill knew that some of Mike's pictures would be in his file. She decided to ask about them when she went to visit Mike in a little while. "What time are we meeting in the morning and where?"

"How about 10 a.m. at my office?" He gave her the address and the phone number. "Once again, are you sure . . . "

"I've never been surer of anything in my life. I'll see you in the morning."

Mike was reading the last letter that he'd received from Jill. This letter was full of hurt and recriminations. It was almost painful to read.

_October 24, 1971,_

_Dear Mike,_

_It seems that I'm finally down to that magic number. Less than 100 days. What was it you told me that you called it? Being a short-timer? One of the ladies that works with me at the clinic told me not to get too excited about the fact that you're now a short-timer. She said short-timers stop paying attention and end up coming home in body bags. I guess if you're up around the 300 days mark, you pay more attention. I don't know. I guess there were a lot of things that you forgot to explain to me._

_I see men come into the clinic everyday missing arms or legs or their minds. I used to ask them if they knew you. I guess second-hand information from a stranger is better than no information, at all. I don't even ask any more. The colonel in charge of the clinic asked me to stop. He said that 'Nam is a big place and not everybody knows everybody like they do here in Anniston. He reminded me that if anything were to happen to you, I'd know it._

_I see the blue cars constantly, Mike. I see them in the morning when I'm going to work, and I see them in the morning when I'm coming home from work. I see them at the commissary, at the bank, at the Laundromat. I see them __**everywhere**__. If the soldier was in your unit, I dress up and pay my condolence call, just like you instructed me to. But, I draw the line at attending the funerals. If I have to see one more folded up flag handed to one more widow or parent, I swear I'm going to run screaming into the night._

_When you first left, I comforted myself by telling myself that at least you loved me. I told myself that maybe you'd write, anyway, because you do love me. Maybe it'd be different with me than it is with your parents. But, you still don't write. The only way I know that you're alive is you're depositing money in the bank and I haven't gotten a visit from one of those damn blue cars. _

_I don't expect a novel, Mike, but a few lines letting me know that you're okay and that you're thinking of me would be nice. Sometimes at night I think too much. You know how the nights are. Everybody is wondering if I made a mistake and now I'm beginning to think so too._

_Jill_

The last one she hadn't said that she loved him as she had in the other six. Mike wiped at his eyes as he put it back in the envelope. He'd almost thrown everything away because he didn't like putting pen to paper.

He forced a smile when he saw Jill walking into his room. "Hi, baby," he breathed as she walked over and kissed him.

"You look sad," she observed. "What's wrong? Please tell me you haven't gotten more bad news."

"No, I was just re-reading your last letter to me. It always makes me . . . baby, I'm so sorry."

"Hey, that was a long time ago," she took his hand. "You made a mistake. We all make mistakes. It wasn't the first and it won't be the last."

"Terry and Chris were here earlier. Why are you going to talk to that girl?" He came right to the point.

"It's something that I have to do. I understand how the law works, Mike. I know that she's probably going to get nothing more than a slap on the wrist, because no one takes drunk driving seriously. Maybe someday that'll change."

"I don't understand you sometimes," he smiled at her. "Oh, Pop brought me roses this morning. He told me to give them to you. He also invited us over for Christmas."

"He did or your mother did?"

"Well, he said it'd mean a lot to my mother," Mike admitted.

"We'll think about it. I mean, it's not like we're going to be skiing," she pointed toward his leg.

"There goes the season," he sighed as Jill laughed and kissed him again.

They were still kissing and teasing when Dr. Hill entered the room, clearing his throat as he did. "Please stop that," he admonished as they broke apart laughing. "I believe that you wanted to see these," he handed an envelope to Jill.

"I wanted someone else to see them, but I was advised that I might want to see them first," she said as she removed the eight by ten glossies from the envelope.

"What're those?" Mike asked as Jill's face went white. "Jill?"

She quickly shoved the pictures back into the envelope as she took several deep breaths. "They're not very pretty, are they?" Dr. Hill looked at her. "Are you sure you want the Hodges girl . . . "

"She has to see them," Jill stuck her chin out stubbornly.

"Bring them back to me tomorrow," he said as he left the room.

"Are those pictures from the accident?" Mike asked as he saw that Jill was still trying to compose herself. "Baby?"

"From the accident and right after we were both brought in. Did . . . did Dr. Hill or anybody tell you that your heart stopped?"

"I heard a lot of noise," he remembered. "But, everything felt like it was happening to someone else. How many times did it stop?"

"Just once. But, it's just the thought . . . that it happened, at all . . . "

Mike drew her close as she burst into tears. "Baby, it's okay," he consoled her. "They brought me back and I'll be home soon."

"I was so scared when I kept calling out to you! It was so quiet! I felt your pulse, so I knew that you were alive, but you were so quiet!"

"Do you remember when you said you told me that you loved me right before the accident?"

"I couldn't remember if you answered me," she sat up and wiped at her face.

"I answered you back, baby. Have you ever known a time when I didn't repeat those words back to you?"

"No," she smiled through her tears as she kissed him again.

"We need to stop," he reluctantly pulled away. "Because I don't want certain parts of my anatomy rubbing against this cast."

He laughed as she blushed furiously.

Jill walked into the District Attorney's office the next morning, dressed in Mike's favorite long blue dress. She was clutching the envelope containing the pictures that Dr. Hill had let her borrow the night before. D.A. Livingston had promised to bring the other pictures to the meeting. His secretary looked up when Jill entered the room. "Mrs. Danko?" She asked as Jill nodded. "Hold on, please." The secretary pushed a button on her phone. "Mr. Livingston, Mrs. Danko is here. He'll be right out," she said as she ended the call.

A moment later an office door opened and a man in his mid-40's stepped out. "Mrs. Danko, please come in. Ms. Hodges and her attorney are already here."

"Am I late?" She asked.

"No, not at all. Please come in. Stella, please bring some coffee in."

"Yes, sir," the secretary answered dutifully.

Jill had seen the cause of all of her current heartache on TV, but seeing her in person was completely different. In person, Isabelle Hodges looked to be about 12 years old. She was slender, with curly reddish-blonde hair and green eyes. She was dressed in a white shirt and a black skirt. After she was introduced to Isabelle and her high priced attorney, Jill sat down.

"Do you know why I'm here?" Jill asked.

"Not really," Isabelle admitted. "I know you were a passenger in the other car. I don't remember a lot about the accident. I don't know what you expect me to say."

"I don't remember a lot about the accident, either. As for what I expect you to say, I don't expect you to say anything, Isabelle. Is it all right if I call you Isabelle?"

"I don't care," the young woman answered petulantly.

"I just want you to listen. I brought some pictures," Jill opened the first of the two envelopes she'd brought with her. "This is my life before the accident."

Isabelle reluctantly took the pictures that Jill handed to her and glanced at them. A man in a police officer's uniform, a couple in the country, that same couple at the beach, a group of friends gathered around a table at some watering hole. After glancing at them, she handed the pictures back to Jill.

"When I was 19 years old, my life was almost identical to yours, minus the money," Jill said as she put away the pictures. "I used to drink too much and smoke too much. One day I decided that I'd had enough and I cut my wrists. Instead of dying like I'd wanted to do, that decision completely turned my life around. I met the most wonderful man in the whole world. I didn't feel that I deserved him. Sometimes I still don't feel that I deserve him. But, he saw something that I didn't see."

"Why are you telling me all of this?" Isabelle sighed in irritation.

"Because I want you to understand that someone gets it! Tell me about your friends. Tell me about Missy and Chad. Did you care about them? Or were they expendable?"

"Of course I cared about them. We'd been friends for as long as I can remember."

"Were you drunk and high before you got behind the wheel? Because my friends would never let me get behind the wheel of a car if they even suspected that I was drunk. If your friends let you do that, Isabelle, believe me, you need to find better friends."

"I didn't think I was drunk. I didn't feel drunk. Missy was the one who took the wheel."

"So, you're saying that Missy was driving?" The D.A. asked in disbelief.

"No," she shook her head. "It was hot. I was wearing a heavy ski coat. I tried to take it off, but I couldn't because I was driving. I asked Missy to take the wheel just so I could take off my coat."

"I showed you the pictures of my 'before' life. These are the pictures of my 'after' life and yours, too," Jill took out the other sheaf of pictures and handed them to Isabelle. "I want you to see what you caused that day. Not only to me and my husband, but to your friends."

"Oh my god," Isabelle began to sob as she quickly glanced at the pictures.

"Is this really necessary?" Isabelle's attorney looked at the D.A.

"Why not? She'll see the pictures if she goes to trial. Why not show them to her now?"

"This is barbaric!" The attorney roared as he jumped to his feet.

"No, sir!" Jill shouted back. "What is barbaric is my husband who has undergone three surgeries in six days because of your client's selfish behavior! He faces weeks, maybe months of physical therapy because of her! What is barbaric is that two of your client's friend's parent's have had to bury their child! As you can see from the photos, one of those funerals was obviously closed casket! Your client needs to grow up! She needs to grow up before she does this again! She needs to grow up before her parents are forced to bury her!"

"I wasn't thinking," Isabelle continued sobbing as she clutched the offending photos in her hand. "You always think it's going to be someone else. I've been drunker than that and have gotten home in one piece."

"It only takes one time," Jill got into Isabelle's face. "I've spoken a long time to my husband. Neither of us wants you to go to prison, Isabelle. Prison isn't going to help you. I know that the D.A. disagrees with me. I don't know about the parents of your two dead friends. The first step is admitting that you have a problem. Everybody else can tell you that until they're blue in the face. But, the final decision is yours."

"Can I talk to my attorney and the D.A.?" She asked.

"Do you want me to wait outside?" Jill asked.

"Please," Isabelle bit her lip and nodded.

"I'll come and get you when we're done," Mr. Livingston ushered Jill from his office.

"What do I have to do?" Isabelle asked as soon as Jill had left the office.

"What do you want to do?" The D.A. tossed her question back at her.

"The Billings have filed a lawsuit against my family. The Wentworth's won't even talk to me."

"Isabelle, this isn't all about you. I'll talk to the Billings' and the Wentworth's. If you're willing to plead guilty to all of the charges, I'll recommend probation for a period of 10 years . . . "

"Ten years!" Isabelle gasped, thinking that he might as well have said a lifetime.

"Let me finish," he warned her. "These 10 years will have conditions placed on it. Your driver's license will be suspended for two years. You'll also have to enter a mandatory rehabilitation facility and complete it successfully, followed by attending regular AA meetings. I want the AA meetings to start effectively immediately. That means 90 meetings in 90 days. Mr. Carson, are you amenable to these terms?"

"Isabelle?" He looked at his client.

"If the other families are okay with the terms, I'll agree to them," she sighed.

"Ms. Hodges, I want you to understand that you're being given a second chance. Embrace it and do something great with it," the D.A. warned her.

"Yes, sir."

Later that afternoon, Jill was lying beside Mike on his bed as they read from his volume of Poe. "What was that story that you were reading to me?" He asked as he began flipping through the book.

"You heard me?" She gave him the biggest smile he'd ever seen in his life. "You really heard me?"

"Of course I heard you. I think I even squeezed your hand or something. What was that story?"

"I can't believe you heard me," she kissed his neck.

"Hey, remember what I told you about my anatomy and this damn cast? The story, Jill? What was the name of it?"

"Oh, The Cask of . . . something. I can't remember."

"Amontillado. A story about wine," he smiled.

"Uh, have you actually read the whole story?" She gave him a dubious look. "He ended up encasing himself in the wall."

"Hey, nobody ever accused Poe of being cheerful."

They were reading the story when they were interrupted by a knock on the door. "Come in!" Mike called out as Mr. Livingston came in.

"Mr. Livingston?" Jill immediately hopped off of Mike's bed. "Sweetheart, this is Mr. Livingston from the District Attorney's office."

"Your wife has missed her calling," he said as he shook Mike's hand. "She should be working for me. I want to discuss Isabelle Hodges with the two of you."

"Okay," Mike said as the D.A. pulled up a chair and removed a folder from his briefcase.

"Since you left this morning," he looked at Jill, "I have been in meetings with the families of Melissa Billings and Chad Wentworth. As you can imagine, these meeting were less than pleasant for a couple of reasons. Ms. Hodges is going to enter a plea of guilty to the charges of vehicular manslaughter, driving under the influence and two counts of vehicular assault in the third degree. In return, my office had agreed that she will receive a sentence of 15 years probation. Originally, this was going to be 10, but the other families refused to those terms. So, they had to be amended. Her driver's license will be suspended for five years. She'll also be required to enter re-hab and to attend regular AA meetings. Failure to comply with any of these terms will result in automatic revocation of her probation and she'll go to prison. Are you and Mrs. Danko okay with these terms?"

"Are you sure that a judge will sign off on this?" Mike asked.

"A judge could possibly lessen the sentence, but I think he'll agree with our terms."

"Baby?" Mike looked at Jill.

"All I wanted was for her to get it," Jill said with tears in her eyes.

"I thought that it was the pictures of Melissa Billings that got her," he said, "but when I asked her, she said it was seeing the pictures of your life with Mike from before and how he looked when he was in the ER and they were working to save his life. Job well done, Mrs. Danko. Like I said, you missed your calling. If you'll both sign these, I'll be on my way."

After carefully reading the legal document, they both signed and dated it before Mr. Livingston put the document back in the folder and back in his briefcase. "She'll be in court tomorrow morning if you want to be there," he looked at Jill.

"I'll be there."

"Are you okay?" Mike pulled her down to his chest after Mr. Livingston had left.

"I will be," she whispered. "Maybe someday Isabelle's hero will come riding in on a white horse to rescue her."

"I'd like to think so," he smiled as he kissed her.

**One more chapter and this saga will be complete. The next chapter will have an M rating, so be warned.**


	9. Chapter 9

The Hero Always Comes in Riding a White Horse

**Disclaimers: Still haven't heard from Aaron Spelling's estate or Leonard Goldberg, so the series still isn't mine.**

**This is the final chapter, which will wrap everything up nicely, I hope. This chapter will have an M rating because I have to heat things up between Mike and Jill. It's how I roll. Reviews are always appreciated. They make me feel warm and fuzzy inside.**

**When I first started writing romance scenes, they were pretty tame by comparison to this one and it would take me forever to finish them. I managed to get this one out in one afternoon which is almost a record for me. Please review and let me know what you think. Do you want more stories? Hotter sex? Less sex? **

Chapter 9

It was a cool windy March morning. As they walked arm in arm along the Santa Monica pier, Jill couldn't help but think of how thankful she was on this sunny Saturday.

The thing that she was most thankful for was the incredibly handsome man who was walking at her side. Mike had come home just five days before Christmas, which had made the holiday very special. Especially considering how close he'd been to death just a couple of short weeks before. He'd undergone weeks of grueling physical therapy and was happy to have been able to finally have ditched his cane just a few days before. With this last obstacle out of the way, he'd been cleared to return to full active duty the next week.

"Let me know if you need to rest," she told him as she smiled up at him. His hair had finally grown back and seemed to be curlier than ever.

"I'm good," he assured her as they stopped at the boardwalk railing to watch the surfers in the distance. "Those guys are either incredibly brave or they all have a death wish."

"Have you ever tried it?" She asked him.

"Are you kidding? I've seen 'Jaws.' There ain't any way you're getting me out in the middle of an ocean on one of those boards."

"Willie always offered to teach me."

"Well, I think you've always been braver than me."

"Oh, I don't know about that. After all, I didn't have to deal with Attila the Therapist," she grinned up at him.

Mike shook his head to clear the memories of his therapist, who'd clearly learned his trade in a Nazi concentration camp. The guy was ruthless. But, even Mike had to admit that the results had been worth the pain. "Do you know what I want to do?"

"No, what?"

"I want to buy a bag of popcorn and make out with you at the top of the Ferris wheel."

"Will you split the difference? You can buy a bag of popcorn and make out with me at home," she trailed her finger lightly up his arm as he gave her a lecherous grin.

"Okay," he agreed as he took her hand as they headed off of the boardwalk and toward the car.

Jill couldn't help but grin happily as he stopped to buy his popcorn as they continued on their way. The minute his cast had come off of his leg in late January, Mike had been a man on a mission to make up for all of the sex they'd missed while he was incapacitated. To say that the Danko's were insatiable would be something of an understatement. Jill didn't care in the slightest. There was no place she'd rather be than wrapped up in this man's arms for the rest of her life.

Back home, they were on the couch, sharing the popcorn and teasing each other when the doorbell rang. "Tell whoever it is that we're not interested," he kissed her as she got to her feet.

Jill ran a hand through her disheveled hair as she looked through the peephole. "Isabelle?" She was surprised when she answered the door to find the young woman standing there.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you," she stammered as Mike got to his feet and made his way to the door.

"Please come in," Jill stood back to let her into the apartment. "Mike, this is . . . "

"Isabelle Hodges. Yeah, I know," he didn't know whether to be surprised or annoyed.

"I can't stay long. I wanted you to know that I just got out of rehab. It wasn't a picnic, but it opened my eyes to a lot of things. I also got my 90-day chip," she announced proudly as she showed the chip to Mike and Jill. "I know you think that I was a brat, and I was," she admitted. "I've also made arrangements to talk to some high school kids. My father is horrified, but I've actually done something to make my stepmother proud of me. I think if I hadn't seen the pictures, it never would've sunk in. The D.A. has given me permission to use some of the pictures from the accident when I go to the high school. He thinks it would be a good idea if they saw what could happen before it happens to them."

"Have you gone back to school?" Jill asked.

"Not yet. I think I'm going to wait until the fall. I want to make sure I have my shit together before I go back."

"I'm glad that my words had an impact."

"There's more," Isabelle blushed. "I think I met someone. He's the son of one of my stepmother's friends. I've known him for a while, but I never paid him any mind until now. He wasn't part of my old crowd, so I brushed him off. But, then I started talking to him one day and realized that it was okay to like someone who wasn't always getting trashed."

"Yes, it is," Mike agreed as he smiled at Jill.

"Well, anyway, I have to go. He's waiting for me downstairs. I just wanted to thank you for saving my life. I'm just sorry . . . " her voice broke as Jill took her hand.

"You'll never get over what you did," Jill told her. "But, you'll learn to move past it. Just give yourself a lot of time."

"I will. Bye," she said as Jill let her out of the apartment and closed the door behind her.

"Wow, that was . . . I'm not sure what that was," Mike sighed. "Come here, you little life saver, you," he reached his hand out to Jill as she took it.

As his mouth closed over hers, Jill instantly felt her pulse increase and her skin immediately flush with warmth. It had been that way every time he'd touched her since the very first time. "Mike?" She asked as he left her mouth to feast on her neck. "Michael?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Can we do everything?"

"Define 'everything?'" He pulled away to look at her expectantly. He knew that she wouldn't ever go down on him. But, a guy could always hope, couldn't he?

"Okay, let me back up a little. What I meant to say is I want to feel you everywhere," she smiled as she stroked his chest with her fingers.

"I think I can handle that," he once again began kissing her neck as he began walking her backwards toward their bedroom.

As he moved her backwards, his fingers nimbly began unbuttoning the tiny buttons on the shirt that she was wearing. "I never knew you to be a multi-tasker, Danko," she whispered as he opened her shirt.

"That's me, always full of surprises," he broke contact with her neck as they stopped next to their bed.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he pulled her into the 'v' between his legs and pressed his face into the space between her breasts. She smelled of jasmine, cinnamon, and tea roses. He could inhale the scent of her forever. He heard her breath quicken as he planted a kiss on her bare abdomen. He slipped her blouse off of her shoulders before unhooking her bra and sliding it off, as well.

Jill sighed as he cupped her breasts, gently stroking them with his fingers. She felt as if there was a switch in her body that immediately went to the 'on' position as soon as he put his hands on her. He was the second man she'd ever slept with, but the only one who'd shown her how wonderful things could be between two people who truly loved each other. He'd told her once that if she wasn't in the mood, all she had to do was tell him no. To Jill, that had never been an option. She'd find him looking at her from across a crowded room and that switch would come on. She knew that as soon as he opened her jeans and touched her, he'd find her soaking wet.

She moaned when he replaced his hands at her breasts with his lips and tongue. "Oh, Mike," she sighed as he gently nibbled at her sensitive nipples. She pressed his head closer as he continued his assault on her senses.

Just when she thought it couldn't possibly get any hotter in their bedroom, she felt him lift her up in his arms before he turned and dropped her on the mattress. Her dark brown eyes met his impossibly blue-green ones as she felt his fingers in the waistband of her jeans. The ability to breathe left her as she felt him first unbutton and then unzip the jeans before tugging them down her legs, leaving her clad in only her panties. He moved back over her as he once again enfolded her in his arms. Jill gasped as she felt his denim-clad erection pressing against her. That gasp turned into a throaty moan as he slowly rocked against her, the roughness of the denim hitting exactly the right spots.

"Tell me what you want," his voice was barely above a whisper as he stared down at her.

"You," she whispered back as she reached up to pull his head down toward her. "I want you . . . everywhere."

His mouth seemed to devour her as his lips and tongue suddenly seemed to be . . . everywhere. Just like she'd requested. She closed her eyes against the incredible sensations that he was invoking in her body. The thought went through her mind almost every time they made love. It had been almost this hot the first time. They'd probably made love a thousand times since then. How could it just keep getting better every single time? She'd fallen in love with a man who certainly knew what to do with his mouth and his hands. She remembered when he'd warned her of this the first night they made love. Before she'd let him do _everything_.

She trembled in anticipation as she felt his lips gradually moving their way down her body. She felt as if she'd go crazy if he didn't touch her or do something soon. The need was unbearable. She finally felt him stroking her through her panties and nearly came off of the bed with the intensity of his touch. "Harder, Michael," she begged as she tried to press herself into his fingers.

Mike stilled his fingers, amused by his wife's neediness. He reached up for the elastic of her panties and pulled them down her legs, letting them drop to the floor. He had always loved her reactions to the way he could make her body react to his touch. His own jeans instantly got just a fraction tighter as soon as he touched her and found out just how badly she wanted him. "Oh baby, you are so damn ready," he murmured as he kept up his light touch on her.

She felt like screaming at him that she'd been ready for the last hour. She was ready before that Hodges girl had shown up and interrupted everything. "Mike, please," she begged as she tried reaching for him.

"Oh, that's right," he teased as his mouth hovered just over her center. "You did say that you wanted to feel me _everywhere_."

"Oh my God!" She cried out as his mouth finally made contact with her.

Mike knew even as he lavished all of his loving attention on her that it wasn't going to take her long to come. Her cries and her body language were making that point all too clear. Her hands clamped into his hair and pressed him even tighter into her body, at one point making it difficult to breathe. He could feel her thighs trembling as her orgasm began crashing down on her. He flicked her clitoris with his tongue as he entered her with two fingers, pressing upwards as he heard her scream and felt her inner muscles clamping down on him.

Knowing how sensitive she was after an orgasm, he gradually eased up on his ministrations. Her breath was still heaving in her chest when he moved back on the bed and gathered her in his arms. "Someday," she panted as she lay in his arms, "I'm going to meet whoever it was who taught you all of your tricks. I'm going to meet her and I'm going to buy her a lobster dinner."

"Nobody taught me, baby," he nuzzled her neck. "It was all a matter of listening. If she liked it, I kept doing it. If she didn't, then I knew not to do it again. It's the same with you."

"Why are you still dressed?" She looked at him as if truly seeing him for the first time.

"Because I was busy taking care of you," he smiled down at her.

"How far into the state capitols have you gotten?" She asked, referring to his trick to keep from coming too soon.

"I think I'm on the 'M's.'" He kissed her as he let his hands once again roam down her naked body, reawakening her senses.

She could taste her arousal on him, something that she didn't always like, but today it seemed to fire her up again. "Well, keep thinking of them because now it's my turn," she grinned as she rapidly began unbuttoning his shirt before reaching down to the fly of his jeans.

His breath caught in his throat as she undid his jeans and slowly pulled them down, followed by his boxers. As soon as her hand clasped around his painfully erect penis, he almost came right then and there. He groaned as she tightened her grip around his head, managing to force back his impending climax. "Are you okay?" She asked as she looked at him with dark eyes that were full of passion.

"Yeah, I think you managed to avert disaster," he struggled for breath as he watched her stroking him. "Have I ever told you that watching you touch me is fucking hot as hell?"

"I'll file that away under things you've told me for the first time. But, as hot as touching you is for me," she moved forward to kiss him, "right now, I want to feel you inside of me."

Mike pulled her into his arms and rolled them over so he was on top. She cried out as he entered her with a thrust that surprised them both. She wrapped her legs around him as he thrust into her deeper, firing up her senses once again. "Baby, are you close?" She heard him ask her.

"Very," she clutched him tighter as he moved faster and even deeper, causing her to cry out as a small flame began to flare higher. "Touch me, Michael."

He reached down between their tightly joined bodies and pressed his fingers into her, causing her to shriek in pleasure as she buried her face into neck as her orgasm seemed to go on and on. His last coherent thought before his own climax spiraled out of him was hearing her repeating his name over and over as if it were a prayer. "I think that was the hottest sex I've ever had in my life," he tried to catch his breath as he felt her stroking his neck.

"Even with Miss Roamin' Hands and Rushin' Fingers?" She teased.

"Yeah, even with her."

"Well, all of my hot sex has been with you, so I wouldn't know," she smiled as he kissed her. She groaned when she felt him stirring against her once again. "How do you feel about taking a shower?"

"You want to have more mind blowing sex?" He asked in mock surprise.

"Sweetheart, its Saturday. Neither of us has to be at work until Monday. I plan on having _a lot _of mind blowing sex. Let's go," she shoved at him as he got off of her and held out his hand to her.

As he followed her naked body into the bathroom, he marveled at how lucky he'd gotten the day he'd wandered into that bar in Alabama and met the girl whose face was all eyes. Yes, he was a very lucky man, indeed.

The End


End file.
